


This Christmas

by LinksLipsSinkShips



Series: Everlasting Love [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fanatic Rhett, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Holidays, M/M, Scroogey Link, You already know how this ends but read it anyway, and probably cliche, it's tooth rottingly fluffy, like a gay debbie macomber book tbh, oops that got angsty, this is fluffy as heck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-09 15:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12890757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinksLipsSinkShips/pseuds/LinksLipsSinkShips
Summary: Link, who is new to town, just isn't feeling the holiday cheer. But the ever-festive Rhett is bound to try to get him into the Christmas spirit with a few surprises. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, y'all.





	1. Stupid Christmas Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shewasjustagirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasjustagirl/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested Listening:
> 
> It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas- Bing Crosby  
> The Twelve Days of Christmas- Bing Crosby (Or any other version you love!)  
> Christmas In Hollis- RUN-DMC  
> Baby It’s Cold Outside- Zooey Deschanel and Leon Redbone

Peppermint. Everywhere Link looked, there was peppermint. It was like as soon as Thanksgiving ended, someone sneezed red and white stripes all over Trader Joe’s. Peppermint wasn’t the best thing in the world, but he could tolerate it. It was one of those flavors that Link was indifferent to overall. He placed a box of chamomile tea in his basket, noting the peppermint tea on the shelf.  _ How many people buy that thinking it’s special?  _ It was ridiculous how a little marketing to convince people peppermint was essential to having a good Christmas could make even a year-round tea fly off the shelves.

The chaos and crowding that Christmas caused was even worse, Link realized, as a woman bumped him out of the way to snatch up several boxes of the peppermint green tea he’d just been rolling his eyes over.

“You know they sell that stuff all year?” Link asked. She responded with a glare and put two more boxes in her cart. “Okay, then.” He stalked away from the aisle, seeking out other comfort food. A jar of peanut butter was the obvious item on his mental list. He didn’t even want bread to go with it, just straight peanut butter worked fine for him.

Link’s feet scuffled along the floor, his head hanging low. The overly cheerful Christmas music was annoyingly saccharine, and it was giving Link a darn headache.  _ I hate Christmas _ , he thought to himself, trying to elbow his way through shoppers crowded around a display of Joe Joes. He plucked two boxes from between other shoppers, and put them in his basket just as he discovered they had Peppermint written across the label. With the crowd, putting them back wasn’t an option, so he settled.  _ What’s wrong with plain Joe Joes? _ If he had enough food at home, he’d avoid the stores altogether until Christmas was over. With near-bare shelves, though, he had no choice.

“I really can’t stay,” a voice sang along to the piped music from an aisle over, whistling some lines and singing others, “Baby it’s cold outside.”  _ Someone has way too much holiday cheer _ , Link thought. He needed to get out of this stupid store. The sooner he could finish his shopping, the sooner he could leave this festive hell hole and take a nap. He wondered where the booze was, thinking he might just need some to get through the holiday season. He turned the aisle, seeing a lone box on the end cap. He wasn’t  _ that  _ into peppermint bark, but it didn’t sound terrible, something festive he could potentially stomach despite the gimmick. He reached a hand out, grabbing the box just as a large hand wrapped around the other side of it.

“Oh! Oh gosh,” a man, presumably the one who had been singing, judging by his festive candy cane-striped shirt, turned to look at Link. “You can… you can have it,” he said the words, not quite releasing the box, like he was offering with the hope that Link would let him have it. Link barely stifled a groan at the man’s festive attire as he looked up at him. Link rarely had to look up at anyone, holding his own at around six feet. But this festive giant towered over him, and Link let go of the box.

“You can have them. I’m not really a fan of peppermint anyway.” Link turned away.

“What?” The man gasped, his voice shocked at the statement. “Not a fan of peppermint bark? But it’s a holiday staple, man!” Link turned toward the man again, attempting to hide his basket, which was inadvertently full of peppermint Joe Joes, as the man glanced down into it.

“No, I’m not a fan of peppermint bark. It’s just mint and chocolate. Go grab a box of Junior Mints and it’s basically the same thing, but available all year round.” Link started to turn away again.

“It’s not the same, man. This has that peppermint crunch. It’s magical!”

Link shook his head and kept walking, muttering “Merry Christmas” under his breath and grabbing some peppermint chocolate dipped pretzels instead. He headed to the checkout, not done with his list but thoroughly done with people. He considered ordering the rest of his groceries online, avoiding the holiday crowd and the holiday music and the holiday… whatever. Christmas was two weeks away, and he was already completely, utterly over it.

Rhett turned his focus to the peppermint bark over in his hands, victorious but feeling a little guilty for taking the last box. Oh well, he thought, watching the man he’d just encountered stalk away, ripping a bag of pretzels off of a shelf in a huff and making a beeline for the checkout.  _ Seems cheery,  _ Rhett thought, then shoved the sarcastic thought out of his mind. He wasn’t letting anyone get him down this holiday season.

His cart was near overflowing with fresh fruit for pies, shortening and flour for crusts and cookies, nuts, five boxes of butter, and all of the types of sugar he’d surely need for his famous Christmas sweets. But the peppermint bark was entirely his, the one thing he took delight in enjoying without making himself, or sharing with anyone else. He tossed them into his cart, basketball-style, and assessed his list. Everything was crossed off, but he double-checked to ensure he didn’t miss something. The phrase “checking it twice” popped into his head and he found himself humming about Santa Claus coming to town on the way to the checkout.

Outside the store, Link loaded his few bags into his car and hopped into his car. He adjusted the heat, still not used to the chill he was encountering. He held his hands directly over the heat vents, rubbing them together for any bit of warmth he could get.  _ Gloves. I need some gloves _ . He tuned the station, trying to find anything that wasn’t Christmas music, but, failing to find something he liked, he turned it off altogether. He grumbled to himself about the music, about how everything seemed to be playing Christmas songs. He still didn’t know the stations here, but it wasn’t worth searching now. Just before he could pull out of the parking space, a gentle knock on the window snapped him out of his snarky haze.

Link rolled his window down about an inch, eyes focusing on the Jolly Giant he’d encountered in the grocery store leaning down to peek in through the slot he’d opened.

“Hey! Looks like we parked next to each other, stranger!” The tall man was entirely too cheerful, and Link wondered how much sugar--or Christmas  _ cheer _ \-- the man might have had already that day. Link wanted to close his window, to keep the flurries from invading his car.

“Yeah, sounds like… uh… quite a coincidence, I guess. Have a nice day.” Link’s finger smoothed over the window button, and he started to roll it closed.

“Wait!”

Link released the button and rolled the window back down slightly.

“I have something for you. I felt really badly about taking the last box, and it seems like you could use a pick-me-up.” Rhett held up the box of peppermint bark, rocking it gently back and forth in his hands. Link rolled the window down entirely.

“You don’t have to-- really. I’m not that fond of it. I was just, uh… I was buying it for a friend.” Link was a terrible liar, and he worried the man might be able to read that on his face.

“Please take it. I hope your friend enjoys it!” Rhett passed the box through the window, waiting for Link to place it in the passenger seat.

“Thanks, uh…”

“Rhett. I’m Rhett.”

“Thanks, Rhett.” Link forced a smile, and he wondered if it was convincing at all.

“Hey, have a Merry Christmas, man!” Rhett gave a gentle wave as he walked back to his trunk to load the rest of his groceries into his car. Link pulled out of the parking lot.  _ Stupid Christmas spirit,  _ he muttered, but he couldn’t help but glance down at the box beside him with a small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Grinch Mocktail
> 
> Rim martini glass or 4 oz mason jar with corn syrup and green sugar  
> Place cherry with stem in the bottom of glass  
> Fill with 1.5 oz melon sports drink and top with 1.5 oz lemon lime soda.
> 
> Mr. Grinch Cocktail
> 
> Rim martini glass or 4 oz mason jar with corn syrup and green sugar  
> Place cherry stem in bottom of glass  
> Shake 1 oz midori, 1.5 oz lemon lime soda, and 0.5 oz lime juice with ice. Strain into glass and serve.


	2. Hey, You Up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening:
> 
> Bad Attitude- Meat Loaf  
> Blue Christmas- Elvis Presley  
> Santa Tell Me- Ariana Grande  
> Merry Christmas (I Don't Wanna Fight)- Ramones

If anyone had been in the kitchen with Rhett, he might have been embarrassed over singing along with the Christmas Pop playlist he couldn’t resist turning on. Then again, perhaps whoever would have been with him would have been just as happy to sing along. He wouldn’t know, though, and he tried to push the thought out of his mind as he stirred the caramel mixture on the stovetop, his hips effortlessly swiveling in time with the music and with the spatula he used to scrape down the sides of the pan.

Pies lined the countertops, ready to be gifted to his closest friends. Stevie and Chase would each get one for sure, and he’d figure out what to do with the other four he’d made. He’d had trouble narrowing down the flavors, but now as he looked at the row of desserts, he second-guessed the choice not to trim his list down a little bit to match the number of people he was close to in his life.  _ Oh well, I can always eat one or two of them myself.  _ He’d filled many of the surfaces in his kitchen with baked goods, and he knew he had plenty, more than enough to take something to everyone on his hall.

He turned back to his caramels, knowing there was no way he was stopping, even though he’d made far too many sweets already. The treats gave him something to do when everyone had holiday plans. Stevie had Cassie to watch Christmas movies and listen to music with, to go Christmas shopping with. Chase had his girlfriend of the moment, too… Rhett couldn’t recall her name right now, but if she stuck around, he’d be sure to figure it out sooner or later. As he checked the temperature of the caramels in the pan, still carefully stirring them, he took a small spoon and coated the back of it, setting it aside to cool for a little taste test. There was no real need for him to taste, not really. He’d followed the recipe to a T, and he’d made these every winter for years, with them turning out perfectly each time. But he  _ wanted  _ to taste-- who wouldn’t?

The one thing that still conveyed Christmas magic to him, more than anything else, was being in the kitchen. He had fond memories of time spent with his mother, rolling out gingerbread they’d hand cut for houses, mixing icing to pipe on, using trial and error as they baked their way through all of the family pie crust recipes to see which one was  _ truly  _ the flakiest. He remembered time spent with his grandmother, making traditional treats from around the world, recipes they’d gathered from friends and family or old church cookbooks, like almond horns from Germany, or little powdered cookies from Mexico.

It was those fond memories, the thoughts of time spent sharing treats with those he loved, the way his family would package up baked goods and deliver them to neighbors and family friends, that led him to start the tradition of baking Christmas treats for his entire hall two years ago when he’d entered the post-grad program there.

Rhett carefully poured the caramel mixture, still molten, into a lined pan, scraping out every last bit out he could. Anything left on the sides, he’d surely enjoy later, knowing he’d pick off darn near every last drop for himself before washing dishes the next day. He dusted sea salt over the pans, nice and coarse to sit on top of the caramels and enhance the sweetness.

Rhett picked at the bits of caramel stuck to the sides of the pan, still a little bit too hot, and he lapped at the mixture off of his fingertips, attempting not to burn his tongue. It tasted incredible, perfectly sweet and charmingly salty enough. It was truly a wonder he hadn’t spurred a sugar shock, his normally healthy body trying to adjust to the mountain of sweets he planned to pile on during December. He glanced at the clock, realizing it was nearing midnight. He wasn’t quite ready to wrap up his baking. He was too full of cheer, or at least too unwilling to head to his empty bed. And anyway, he’d had a few too many cups of peppermint green tea, so he poured over the recipes, debating what to make next… fudge or cookies?

He read one, then the other, debating the ease of his fudge against the extra effort of his cookies. He figured the worst case scenario was that he could make the fudge in the morning and selected the cookie recipe for right now. They were labor-intensive, but when they turned out just right, they were delightful. If only he had someone to make them with, they’d go faster.

  
  


**Chase**

 

_ Hey, you up? _

Delivered, unread.

 

He sighed and tried another number.

 

**Stevie**

 

_ Hey, you up? _

I am now.

  
_ You want to come over tomorrow and help me get these treats packaged up? _

Depends. Are there any for me?

_ Always ;) _

How are you this cheery this late? I’ll be there.

  
  


Her text implying Rhett had woken her up was enough to keep him from asking if she’d like to come over and bake cookies right now, but at least he knew he would have her help with deliveries. He tried to be as cheery as Stevie thought he was, the taste of his last cup of peppermint tea lingering on his tongue. How could anyone be anything less than hopeful in December? He reminded himself that this was the season of magic and miracles, that all he had to do was believe in Christmas spirit, and then he sent a final text to Stevie, telling her when he’d need her help with deliveries.

Rhett cranked up the music, then plucked a mini candy cane from the pocket on the front of his Santa apron. He tucked the end of it in his mouth, holding it between his lips as he gathered the cookie ingredients: flour, sugar, butter, maple syrup. The most important ingredient was stashed in the fridge, and as he heated a skillet on the stovetop, he opened the package, placing the bacon strip by strip into the pan. It was a key ingredient, the perfect flavor to tilt the balance of the rest of his overly sweet tray of treats into savory territory, if only for a moment. Plus, it was the kind of delicious surprise he loved including in the center of each cookie. It was going to be a wonderful Christmas, he was sure, but that started with baked goods for all of his neighbors.

He started to sing along with each song, letting the bacon cook as a few splatters of grease landed around the pan. He’d deal with them later. For now he was too busy using a spatula as a microphone, bopping around the kitchen between turning bacon and rolling out cookie dough.

* * *

Link poured himself a glass of whiskey. He could hear Christmas music bubbling out into the hallway, and it was clear one of his neighbors must be having a party. He sank into his chair. Christmas alone wasn’t exactly what he envisioned this year, not after the Christmas-from-hell last year, the one where he swore to make better this year. But when his application had been accepted for the grad program in the middle of the year, and when he saw how quickly Christmas back home was heading downhill again, he took the leap and moved in on the day after Thanksgiving, as soon as an open apartment was available.

His apartment was void of any Christmas spirit, no lights or tree to be found. The only vaguely Christmas-type things he owned were the Peppermint Joe Joes and the Peppermint Bark the stranger had given him. Holding his whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other, he scrolled through Spotify, turning on the first Christmas playlist he could find, some randomly generated mix of cheery holiday songs. If he couldn’t join his neighbors, he’d beat them with his own loud music.

As he pressed shuffle, Blue Christmas by Elvis sputtered out of the weak phone speaker.  _ Figures.  _ He closed the app, returning to the near-silence of his apartment. Or, what would be a silent apartment, if his neighbors weren’t seemingly having the time of their lives across the hall. He waited, mentally begging the music to fade, the raucous singing and noise to stop for the night, but as each minute ticked by, it only seemed to get louder. Was it getting louder? Perhaps it was just the alcohol or the fact that he was alone in his dark apartment.

Link finished his glass, sulked to his room and put his pillow over his head. It wasn’t quite enough to drown out the noise, not enough to quiet his mind that was filled with exhaustion and frustration. He tossed and turned, then gave up on sleep entirely, walking back to the kitchen. He pulled a box of Peppermint Joe Joes out of the cabinet--  _ why, why did they feel the need to screw with perfectly good cookies to make them peppermint? _ \-- and poured another drink. He clearly wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon, not as long as his neighbors insisted on enjoying their holiday cheer all through the night.

Around one in the morning, Link decided the music was becoming too much to bear, the noise slipping under his front door and into his ears, embedding itself in his brain.  _ Shut up! _ , he thought, his mind now a tipsy fog,  _ or I’ll shut you up _ . The idea didn’t seem half bad, and he stood, his bathrobe wrapped tightly around him as he rushed into the hall, letting his door slam loudly behind him as he stomped across corridor, bare feet on carpet, drink still in hand. He listened for the music, which was clearly coming from the door across the hallway and one over from his own place.

He raised his hand, giving a sharp knock on the door of the apartment he was certain held the loud party he’d been overhearing for hours now. No one came to the door, but the singing continued on the other side. He couldn’t recognize the song or the artist, just that it was some vaguely annoying pop song that needed to die.  _ Whoever is there has horrible taste in Christmas music _ , Link thought, considering that, by comparison, Blue Christmas wouldn’t have been a bad choice after all. He knocked a little bit louder the second time.

* * *

Rhett was in too deep on his pop Christmas playlist, unable to resist crooning along with “Santa Tell Me,” his voice attempting to hit Ariana’s signature high notes as he sang “Santa tell me, if he really cares!” as he carefully piped icing onto the cookies, stacking the hollow ones on regular cookies to form a secret bacon pocket. He was pretty sure he was succeeding at the song, at hitting the notes she did, but if he wasn’t getting it quite right, he didn’t care. No one was listening to him anyway. It was the one perk of doing Christmas baking by himself.

It wasn’t until he heard loud pounding on the door that it hit him. Perhaps someone had heard him after all, and he blushed with embarrassment, pausing the music and halting his singing mid-verse. He rushed to the door, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Coming!” He hollered toward the door as the knocking continued. Yanking it open, he was met with a man, a few inches shorter than himself, who instantly looked familiar. “Sorry, how can I help you?”

“Do you have  _ any  _ freaking clue what freaking time it is? People are trying to slee-- wait a minute. You’re… you’re the guy with the uh… uh… the…” Link stood at Rhett’s door in his robe and boxers, using an arm to wrap the robe shut as he leaned against Rhett’s door frame. His breath was thick with whiskey, the glass still in his hand, and Rhett could tell he was a few drinks in.

“The peppermint bark. Yes. I’m Rhett. Also, I’m really sorry-- I got kind of carried away.” Rhett tilted his head toward the inside of his apartment. “Do you want to join me for some pie?”

“No. Who invites a stranger in for pie in the middle of the freakin’ night? Are you okay?” Link wrinkled his eyebrows and cocked his head to one side, wondering why Rhett insisted on him eating all the time, first the peppermint bark and now pie. “I want to go to bed. Do you have any idea when your guests are going to leave so I can do that, or…?” Link peeked around Rhett, realizing that the apartment was silent, that no one was inside.

“Guests?”

“Your… your party. You were having a party, right? It was really loud over here, and… and…” Link looked down at the floor. Had he somehow gotten the wrong apartment?

“Oh! No, it’s… uh… It’s just me in here. Well, me and my baked goods. Please, I’d really love to apologize for the noise, and I have plenty of treats to go around. I didn’t realize we were neighbors, and I also didn’t realize I was being so loud. Forgive me?” Rhett’s voice was dripping with apology, and he really hated that he’d made such a bad impression. In another universe, he imagined that they could have been great friends or something. “I have peach, or caramel apple pie. Ooh, and pecan!”

“No thanks. I don’t really eat pie with strangers at two in the morning. Are you  _ always  _ like this?” Link rolled his eyes.

“Like what?”

“So… so… festive. And insistent upon people eating. I mean, first with the peppermint bark, and then the…” Link looked Rhett up and down, losing his train of thought when he realized that, in addition to the rest of Rhett’s obnoxiously festive clothing, he was even wearing candy cane striped socks.

“I just get really stoked around the Christmas season.” Rhett grinned and lifted a mini candy cane to his mouth, sucking on it. Link raised an eyebrow and Rhett fished around the pocket of his apron, pulling out a wrapped candy cane that he offered to Link. “Sorry, I’m being so rude tonight! Have one?”

“I’m going to bed. If you can keep it down, that’d be super great.” Link turned away, walking back to his apartment and closing the door behind him before Rhett even had a chance to respond.

Rhett stared for a moment at the closed door between them, then shut his own and leaned against it. He looked down at his apron and socks, then across the room at his pies. At least tomorrow he’d be spreading holiday cheer with his friends instead of baking cookies alone.

He returned to the table and placed crumbled bacon in the holes of his cookies, topping them with another flat cookie to hide the surprise inside. It was his favorite Christmas cookie, and he loved making them, but he wished that the mysterious Peppermint Bark stranger he’d now encountered twice would have stayed long enough to try one. It wasn’t peppermint, and he hoped that this man couldn’t find a way to dislike these cookies. After all, Rhett wanted him to like them when he delivered some tomorrow, just like he would to everyone on his hall.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe:
> 
> Homemade Salted Caramels
> 
> 1 Cup melted butter  
> 2 Cups packed brown sugar  
> 1 Cup granulated (white) sugar  
> 1 Cup light corn syrup  
> 1 can evaporated milk  
> 1 pint heavy whipping cream  
> 2 teaspoons sea salt  
> 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
> 
> Melt butter in large pot (must be large-- mixture will increase in size!)  
> Add sugars and corn syrup, stirring until combined.  
> Add vanilla and sea salt. Stir.  
> Bring mixture up to 247-250 degrees Fahrenheit, stirring every 1-2 minutes and being sure to scrape the corners and sides to prevent crystals from forming.  
> Pour into parchment-lined baking dish. Sprinkle with additional sea salt if desired.  
> Cool on counter for 15 minutes, then in fridge for 15 minutes.  
> Slice while firm but pliable using a hot knife.


	3. Ding Dong Ditch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> Marshmallow World- Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra  
> It's Christmas time and Everything's Wrong- Man of Arms  
> All Alone on Christmas- Slow Club  
> Christmas Alone- Current Swell

“My God, how late were you up last night?” Stevie tried her hardest to pick her jaw up off of the floor as she turned to stare at every possible surface in the kitchen, each lined with more Christmas sweets than she’d seen in one place in her entire life, outside of a bakery at least.

“I lost track a little bit after two in the morning,” Rhett thought back in his head to when he’d heard Link pounding on the door, when he’d turned off his music. After that, things started to blur together a little bit. “I’m not sure after that. Probably three or four? I finished the cookies before bed, made the rest of it this morning.”

“How many armies do you plan to feed with this?” She shook her head, placing a few caramels and some fudge on a plate, her hands protected from the stickiness of the candies by the food-safe gloves Rhett insisted she wear. She filled plates, but Rhett was leaned over a tray, fully engrossed in arranging things just right.

“Just this floor. It won’t stretch as far as you think.” Rhett placed a dozen cookies on a plate, then carefully covered it with cling wrap. He’d told Stevie to put four cookies on each of the plates she was assembling, and she cocked her head to one side trying to figure out what the  _ heck  _ Rhett was doing.

“You wanted how many caramels again?” She eyeballed the tray Rhett was assembling, his smallest plate containing a pile of caramels.

“Six caramels, four pieces of fudge.”

“You have fourteen caramels right there,” Stevie nodded toward the tray Rhett was bent over.

“Yeah, but the ones you’re working on are supposed to have six,” Rhett responded flatly. He could tell what Stevie was doing, asking questions to find out who his tray belonged to. He didn’t want to get into it with her, didn’t want to tell her why this tray needed more than the plates she was filling. He wasn’t even sure why this tray being perfect mattered so much to him. It just  _ did _ . He picked up a pie from the row of them on the countertop, placing it into the middle of the tray, then he carefully arranged the plates he’d been filling around it.

“You didn’t mention that I was supposed to put any pie on mine,” Stevie stopped assembling plates altogether now, leaning against the countertop.

“You’re not! Don’t worry about the tray,” Rhett snapped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I… I… uh… I owe someone an apology so I’m adding more to this one.”

“An apology?”

“I kind of got carried away with my music last night and a neighbor stopped by to ask me to turn it down,” Rhett explained. “I’m trying to make it up to him.”

“Was he cute?” Stevie got a coy grin on her face, reading the expression on Rhett’s carefully. He reached into his apron and produced two candy canes.

“Want a candy cane?” He held one out to her as he unwrapped his own, popping the end into his mouth.

“Uh uh, no, you’re not getting out of the question that easily. Was. He. Cute?” Stevie reached for Rhett’s wrist, holding it in place as he held the candy cane toward her. If he wasn’t going to answer her clearly, she was going to catch his eyes and get the answer she wanted. He looked down at his feet.

“Yeah, I mean, a little, I don’t know.” Rhett huffed and tugged away, returning to his tray of treats. He took a card out of a drawer near the refrigerator, scrawling a handwritten note. Stevie looked at the note he was writing, but couldn’t make out words, then looked back at the typed label she had for the rest of them, a note simply stating the treats were from a Secret Santa. Whatever Rhett was doing, he wasn’t keen on giving her the full story about, so she stopped pressing and decided to finish the plates without bringing the mystery recipient of the tray up again.

* * *

It wasn’t until his doorbell buzzed that Link snapped out of his deep sleep with a start. He looked around the room, then at his watch, the realization that it was mid-afternoon hitting him hard.  _ How much did I drink last night?  _ Link wiped away the haze that clouded his vision, walking to the door in his boxer briefs as he tried to wrap his robe around himself. He didn’t know who could be at the door. He had yet to really meet anyone here since he hadn’t yet found a job. He wasn’t expecting anyone, either. Assuming it must be someone with the wrong apartment number, or perhaps his landlord checking in, Link peeked through the peephole on the door. When he saw no one, he thought about going back to bed until he could fully wake up.

Instead, he opened his door cautiously, looking from side to side to see if anyone was walking away, assuming it had taken him too long to get to the door. At first, there was no one in the hall at all, just chatter down past the corner, but then a door across the hall and several doors down swung open. The woman in the doorway looked down, grabbing a plate from in front of her door, and giving a small wave toward Link before retreating back inside.

Link glanced down at his feet. At every door around his, save for Rhett’s, there was a plate piled with sweets. At his own feet, there was a full tray. Rhett’s empty doorway confirmed what Link was already sure of, that Rhett was the culprit of the random treats appearing.  _ What is his weird obsession with feeding people?  _ Link wondered. He shook his head to himself and picked up the tray, bringing it inside and settling it on the table to inspect it.

The pie was the most obvious difference between his tray and the plates in front of neighbors’ doors. It was clear he had a lot more food outside of the pie, too-- tall stacked cookies with a wreath design on top, a plate filled with caramels and fudge, a handful of small candy canes, a few other cookies and desserts around the plate. Rhett had invested some serious time into this, it was obvious. Balanced on the far corner of the tray was a box of peppermint green tea with a note taped to it.

 

**_I know you’re not much of a peppermint fan, but this was the only tea I had. I hope you like it anyway-- it’s my favorite! Sorry for keeping you up last night with the noise. Hope you were able to get some sleep. I’ll keep it in check from now on._ **

**_Maybe the extra treats will help you forgive me? Merry Christmas!_ **

**_-Your Neighbor in 14B (Rhett)_ **

 

A small sketch of a Christmas tree was drawn next to Rhett’s name on the handwritten note. Link stared at the tray, wondering how many people Rhett thought lived with him. It was clearly enough baked goods to feed a large family or a small army, but certainly not Link himself. There was absolutely no way he’d be able to eat the entire pie and all of the cookies and candies Rhett had delivered, not without gaining a significant amount of weight. For a moment, he contemplated throwing it into the trash, resisting the temptation of eating it all himself.

Something about it, though-- the obvious effort, the handwritten note, the way he’d seen Rhett in his apartment alone, apron dusted with flour, a little bit of flour and granulated sugar in his beard when he’d come to the door the night before-- made Link resist chucking it in the garbage. He knew Rhett had put work into it, and as a result, he decided he’d eat what he could before throwing out the rest. He lifted the edge of the cling wrap covering the stacked cookies, attempting to take one from the top. Two other cookies seemed to come with it, and he shook them in an attempt to dislodge them before realizing it was intentional-- they’d been cemented together with frosting in a small stack. He smelled them, getting a hint of maple and saccharine frosting.  _ Thank goodness it’s not peppermint.  _ He took a small bite of the edge, tasting the hint of maple his nose had picked up. The frosting added a sweetness beyond the syrup flavor, but as he took another bite, he pulled back, something savory, salty, and strange falling from the cookie. 

He barely resisted the urge to spit it out, not because it tasted bad, but instead because he’d been expecting cookie and not the crisp, savory filling that he got.  _ Is that bacon?  _ He sniffed at the cookie again, then broke it apart. A small opening in the center was stuffed with small pieces of bacon. Without the element of surprise, the random flash of bacon in an otherwise sweet cookie, he actually  _ liked  _ the cookie a lot and grabbed two more as he headed to his desk.

* * *

 

“That’s everyone,” Stevie leaned against the wall inside of the stairway corridor, panting and exhausted from running the hall to ring doorbells and disappear before being seen. She and Rhett had carefully placed the plates, one in front of each door, then went back to the first door, ringing each doorbell quickly as they ran down the halls, hiding in the stairwell before anyone could find them.

They waited patiently, hoping everyone would collect the plates without seeing them. If they walked back to Rhett’s apartment now, he feared they’d be caught in the act. Then again, Rhett was the only one without a plate in front of his door, and he knew that almost everyone knew it was him by now anyway. He thought about the typed labels that kept his identity secret, each one saying “From your Secret Santa.” All of the plates had the label except one, the one that held an apology to his mysterious neighbor, who as Stevie had gotten him to admit, happened to be very attractive.

“So no one knows it’s you?” Stevie asked. This was the first time she’d helped him deliver treats at Christmas since she’d moved in at the beginning of summer. Her girlfriend, Cassie, was in the same program as Rhett, and Rhett liked Cassie well enough, inviting both her and Stevie over for dinner regularly. But he and Stevie had an instant connection, a big brother/little sister bond that seemed to fall into place as soon as they met.

“I think there are a few people who suspect. Really, anyone who was here last year probably figured it out. But no, I haven’t come out and told people that I’m the Crazy Christmas Guy.”  _ Except for him,  _ Rhett added silently to himself, unsure why he’d felt the need to strip away the mystery of the treat delivery, especially for the most mysterious person on his hall. Then he reminded himself that the man had figured it out himself, he was sure of it, when he’d seen the treats behind Rhett last night, caught him in the act.

Everyone’s doors seemed to have some sense of holiday cheer on them, a few with wreaths, some with Christmas lights hung around the doorframe, one with a Menorah embroidered on a banner. But the mystery man’s door stayed plain, not a single shred of tinsel or fleck of acknowledgment that a holiday was coming at all. Rhett, of course, went all-out by contrast, wrapping his door like a giant present, covering it with tinsel and glittered ribbon that shed sparkles into the hallway carpets.

For a moment, Rhett wondered if the man simply didn’t celebrate at all. Maybe he simply wasn’t a Christmas person, and Rhett hoped he hadn’t offended him with the general overload of Christmas spirit on his part. At the same time, he thought everyone deserved a smile and some treats, whether or not they celebrated Christmas. Stevie cracked the doorway to the stairwell open, noticing almost all of the plates were gone now, with a few still sitting in the hallway.

“I think everyone who’s home grabbed theirs already,” Stevie said.

“Yeah, it’s probably safe,” Rhett said, peeking out over her head, his height giving him the ability to do so easily. He couldn’t see his mysterious Christmas-hating new friend’s door since it was around the corner, but he decided to duck out of the stairwell anyway, to return to his own apartment, Stevie in tow, for hot chocolate piled high with both marshmallows and whipped cream.

* * *

Link stood in the hot stream of shower water falling on him, a stark contrast to the winter wind he heard howling outside his window. He was trying to wake up, to warm up, to anything the water was able to help him with. They sure didn’t make winter this cold in LA, not with the loud whip of the wind or the flurries he kept seeing outside his window. He wondered how he’d make it through the cold chill of winter, wondered if it was the grey, overcast skies making him feel so down.

He knew, though, that weather wasn’t the only culprit for his gloomy outlook. The truth was that running from his problems at this time of year made a fresh start painful. After the  _ worst Christmas ever  _ the year before, where he’d comforted his mother through the end of her marriage, without being able to face his own dark secrets, he wondered how he’d manage to deal with Christmas this year. He’d endured the discussion from family about how his mother was horrible for ending her marriage, while simultaneously being asked when he was going to find a woman to marry (newsflash: how about never?), he’d realized just how much life back home wasn’t working for him.

Being alone had to be better than the arguments and pressure from family to fit inside of a certain mold. But instead of embracing the idea that things could only go up from there, he realized he was spiraling downwards, the transition not going as smoothly as he imagined. No family pressure was positive, but the lack of family altogether was harder than he realized it would be. Without friends, any real connections, and the holidays rapidly approaching, he felt the icy chill of being alone closing in on him.

Link leaned his head against the shower wall, letting his thoughts wander. They wandered back home, to whether he’d made the right choice to pursue a program all the way across the country, leaving his mother alone in the ruins of her failed marriage. His thoughts wandered to the day his grandfather found a Sears catalog stuck in the back of Link’s drawer years ago. Mercifully, he hadn’t realized the only worn pages of it were the men’s underwear section, hadn’t realized that it was a discarded catalog and instead the beginnings of Link’s realization that he’d never live up to familial expectations. He shoved the thought out of his head, choosing instead to focus on the caramels left on the tray by his door. He turned the water off without ever bothering to shampoo or anything else, and toweled off, wrapping the damp towel around his waist.

Without stopping to get dressed, Link walked through his bedroom straight to the kitchen, popping a caramel into his mouth. It was divine, the buttery flavor and lingering salt making it all the more magnificent. He quickly shoved another into his mouth, then picked up the plate, settling into his recliner. He knew that he couldn’t stop his intrusive concerns, the anxiety piling on him as the holidays approached. There was no sense in going back home to a family that was preoccupied with their own problems, one that would never fully accept him. But he could eat caramels, and as he placed another one in his mouth, that was exactly what he planned to do with the next little bit of time alone.

Link didn’t realize he’d eaten the entire plate of caramels until he reached for one more and hit empty plate instead. He looked down, sad to see they were gone until he remembered his goal was not to eat the entire plate of them to begin with. He glanced toward the tray, longing to try some of the fudge or another cookie, but realized more sugar was the last thing he needed. Instead, he sat down at his desk and pulled out a piece of paper.

 

**_Thanks for the Christmas food. It’s all great. Or, the stuff I ate so far. Sorry for yelling at you last night. You were really loud and that sucked, but I was drunk and kind of a jerk._ **

**_Merry Christm_ **

 

No, that was horrible, Link decided. Complaining about the noise wasn’t helping anything.

 

**_Thanks for the treats. They were good._ **

**_Link_ **

 

_ God, are we in first grade?  _ Link ripped it up immediately, throwing it in the trash and starting again.

 

**_Sorry for yelling at you last night. The treats were really good-- thanks for bringing me some. I’m sorry I didn’t come in for pie, either, but I wasn’t sure that coming in for pie in the middle of the night while I was in my bathrobe was a very goo_ **

 

Link couldn’t understand why a thank you note was so hard to write. Perhaps it was the fact that the last thing he could afford to do was push away a potential friendship, or maybe it was the realization that he’d made not only a horrible first impression, but an even worse second impression, that made it more of a challenge than he thought initially.

He tore the letter up, too, thinking very carefully before putting pen to paper once more.

 

**_The caramels and cookies were great. Looking forward to trying the rest. Sorry for being a jerk last night… I was a little drunk and you were just having a good time. Thanks for all the treats,_ **

**_Link_ **

 

He wasn’t sure if it was the perfect thing to say, but it was arguably better than anything he’d said to Rhett the first or the second times he’d spoken to him. Before he could second-guess himself, he picked up the note, folded it in half, and walked across the hall. He slipped it under Rhett’s door without a word or a knock, afraid that if they spoke face-to-face, he’d say something grouchy again. He was sure Rhett would find it, but he wasn’t about to wait around and find out. Instead, he went back to his apartment, still curious about how the fudge tasted.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe
> 
> Surprise Bacon-Filled Maple Cookies
> 
> 5 1/2 Cups all-purpose flour  
> 1 teaspoon salt  
> 4 sticks (2 cups) butter at room temperature  
> 1 1/2 cup sugar  
> 1/2 cup pure maple syrup  
> 1/2 teaspoon maple extract  
> 1 egg yolk  
> 1 egg, beaten  
> Royal icing in red and in green  
> 1 pound cooked bacon
> 
> Sift together flour and salt.  
> In a seperate bowl, cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy.  
> Add egg yolk, maple syrup, and maple extract to butter mixture until well-combined.  
> Add flour mixture gradually, mixing until a thick dough forms.  
> Flatten dough, wrap in cling wrap, and refrigerate at least one hour until your dough is firm to the touch.  
> Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  
> On a floured surface, roll dough to 1/4 inch thickness.  
> Cut 2 whole circles and 2 donut-type circles for each cookie (donut-type circles are cookies with the center cut out, which you will later fill with bacon)  
> Brush each cookie piece with beaten egg, then bake for 10 minutes at 350 degrees.  
> Cool completely.  
> On the top of the bottom-most cookie, pipe a circle of royal icing. Place one cookie with hole in it on top of the whole cookie. Make another circle of royal icing and place another cookie with a hole on top. Fill hole with diced bacon.  
> Make another ring of royal icing, placing a whole cookie (no hole) on top. Let dry.  
> Decorate with royal icing.
> 
> (Seriously, these sound way more complicated than they are, so if you need pictures, message me on tumblr and I'll hook y'all up).


	4. Ready To Surrender?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! -Ella Fitzgerald  
> Christmas Wrapping- The Waitresses  
> Do You Want To Build a Snowman- Kristen Bell  
> Frosty the Snowman- Willie Nelson  
> Snowman- Anti-Nowhere League (this is REALLY explicit, fyi)

Rhett peeked through his bedroom window, the sheer curtains having allowed plenty of moonlight in, enough to wake him up. The world had the eerie white-blue glow to it that could only mean one thing: snow, and a lot of it. Rhett reached back for his blanket, wrapping it around himself tightly as he stood in the window and, for a long while, just watched the snow fall. The flakes were large, big enough that they were sure to stick to the frozen ground. It was the one thing he’d hoped for, waited for, since winter began.

It was just past four in the morning when Rhett glanced back at the clock, then looked back outside at the falling snow. An idea formed in his brain, but he knew he needed to act quickly before anyone else got bright ideas and the stores sold out of what he needed. One last lingering look at the falling snow was enough to spur him into action at a time he’d usually be exhausted, and he got dressed, pulling on heavy boots to keep the snow at bay. He headed to his car, then drove to the nearest Walmart, the streets empty and the world quiet. The parking lot was almost empty, which was exactly what he’d hoped for.

Inside, he headed straight for the carrots. Luckily, there were plenty, since no one else was awake to notice the falling snow yet. He counted the carrots in every bag, then loaded four bags of them into his cart, knowing 60 carrots would be more than enough for what he’d planned. He searched the store for the rest of what he needed, adding decorative twigs, plenty of hot cocoa, and an assortment of coffee creamer into his cart.

“Excuse me,” Rhett turned to a man in a blue vest, who was clearly not thrilled to be working in the early hours of the snowy morning. “Do you know if there are any more bags of coal?”

“If we ‘ave ‘em, they’ll be outdoors where the grills are at. What’re you using coal for in the middle of winter?” The man squinted his eyes, looking up at Rhett to figure out what sort of mischief he was up to. Rhett looked down at the man with a smile, taking in the fact that the man looked just a little too much like a grumpier version of Santa Claus, a little full around the midsection, a white bushy beard hanging low, and if Rhett smiled hard enough, maybe he could make out a twinkle in the man’s eye.

“Just need some for snowmen,” Rhett grinned, lifting one of the bags of carrots out of his cart to show the man. “Thank you for the help,” Rhett squinted to make out the man’s name tag, “Nick. I’ll check outside.” The man working smiled softly in return, his face warming to Rhett’s cheerful personality.

Outside, he was able to locate exactly one large bag of coal, tucked away in a corner like it had been forgotten from the summer season. He hoped it would be enough as he loaded it into his cart. He had one last idea, and he pushed the cart through the mostly-empty aisles, running and then gliding with it for a few seconds with a grin on his face. No one paid him any attention, the incredibly tall man running and jumping onto his cart through the aisles. As he reached the aisle he was looking for, he piled as many gloves, scarves, and beanies as his budget would allow into the cart, then headed for the checkout.

The cashier looked at him, then at the mounds of supplies he was piling on the belt.

“Are you feeding grilled carrots to a small army of cold children?” The cashier’s tone was bored with a twinge of sarcasm, but Rhett was unruffled, smiling back at her.

“How did you know?” Rhett chuckled, then swiped his card as she rang the final items. “I’m just spreading some cheer today, that’s all.” He wished her a merry Christmas and felt an extra bounce in his step as he headed toward the door. More snow had fallen as he’d been inside, and he knew they’d have plenty to work with. As he pulled into his apartment parking lot, he saw the sun rising on the horizon, and he realized he had precious little time to finish preparing if he’d get outside again before everyone left for the day to do whatever their day held. He left the carrots, coal, and accessories in the car, racing inside to brew as much coffee and cocoa would fit in his largest thermoses. He hoped it would keep everything hot for a while.

It didn’t take long for him to get back outside, to spread the supplies on the ledge near his building next to a makeshift sign that said: “Come Build a Snowman!” Rhett started a snowman of his own, alone in the cold outside. He heaved a second ball on top of the first he’d rolled, then another smaller one for the head not long after. He pulled a candy cane out of his pocket, sucking on the end of it as he grabbed coal and carrots to decorate the snowman he’d built.

“Morning, Rhett,” the front door to the building swung open, and Stevie appeared beside him. “Snowmen?”

“Yup. Want some carrots and coal? There’s plenty of snow,” Rhett gestured to the snow around him, looked up at the sky that large flakes still fell from. She fished a carrot out of the bag.

“Sure, I’ll build one. I’m eating one of these, though,” she said before taking a big bite.

"Oh no, not the noses!” Rhett exclaimed. He reached out to swat her hand jokingly, then slid off of the ledge he’d been sitting on to help her roll snow into a ball. “When the snow starts to melt, I’ll wash the hats and gloves and stuff and take them to the shelter.” He hoped that, after their fun was over, he could do a good deed.

“You’re too nice, Rhett,” Stevie said, placing a black beanie on her snowman’s head. Rhett shook his head, looking down at the fallen snow, and from the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of perfectly styled dark hair and thick-framed glasses.

Rhett turned the rest of the way toward the door, trying to get a good look at Link. He wasn’t quite dressed for the cold weather, his coat far too thin. He did have a scarf wrapped around his neck, his prominent Adam’s apple peeking out above it. But he didn’t have a hat, no gloves in sight, and Rhett wondered if he was unprepared for the cold weather. As the cool air hit Link, truly hit him, he shivered.

“Hey, Link, want some carrots and coal?” Rhett tried to keep his cool. He hadn’t spoken to Link face-to-face since Link had stopped by the night he’d been too loud, and hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to him since he found the note Link had slipped under his door, not by choice, but by a lack of 

“Whoa, now, coal? We’ve known each other for what, ten minutes and you’ve already decided I’m on the naughty list?” Link tried to glare, but he cracked and let a small smile play on his lips. Rhett looked startled by the question at first, but when he saw the gleam in Link’s eyes, he smiled back.

“Can you prove otherwise?” Rhett grinned widely now, his cheeks raising up over his beard with a slight blush. “But no, we’re just making snowmen. Want to make one?” Rhett felt a flutter of warmth at Link’s smiles, realizing that they’d somehow progressed from Link standing in the hall in a bathrobe grumbling at him to careful jokes in the span of a couple of days. The tray of treats and the notes they’d exchanged seemed to make a huge difference, and Rhett was happy about the extra effort he’d put in.

“Nah, man. Thanks, but I’ve got to go put in some applications if I’m going to get a job before things get crazy again.”

“Aw, but it’s a snowy day! Take a break for a little bit. Everywhere that’s open will still be open later today,” Rhett offered, waggling a carrot toward Link. Link started to reach for it, then pulled his hand back and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“I can’t, really. I’m sorry. I have to go. Have fun, though.” Link turned away. With why he’d left LA, the last thing he needed to do was befriend this tall, cheerful man who kept popping into his life.

Stevie looked at Rhett, then at Link, then back at Rhett, trying to interpret the wounded expression on Rhett’s face. Rhett longed to form a friendship with the scroogey man he barely knew, felt there had to be a reason he was so drawn to him, like maybe they became neighbors solely because Rhett needed to perk him up. Rhett had seen enough Hallmark movies to know what the inevitable end result was for a Christmas-hater and a Christmas-lover put in close proximity. He wasn’t crazy enough to think  _ that  _ was likely, but he did think there was hope for a friendship, one that might show Link a little holiday cheer after all. Rhett shrugged his shoulders, turning to pour a cup of hot cocoa for Stevie.

Stevie, however, didn’t take Link’s rejection of her friend’s offer lightly, picking up a handful of snow and packing it tightly together. Before Rhett could see what was about to happen, before he could intervene and stop her, she hurled the snowball through the air, and with a sharp snap of precision, it landed coldly against the back of Link’s head. He whipped around as Stevie ducked behind a snowman, leaving Rhett as the only culprit Link could find since everyone else was fully engrossed in their own snowmen, chatter over cups of coffee and cocoa, or getting where they needed to go.

“What the heck was that for?” Link grimaced, reaching behind his head to brush the snow out of his hair.

“I am  _ so  _ sorry,” Rhett said, taking a step toward Link. He didn’t want to throw Stevie under the bus, but he didn’t want to take the fall for it, either. “I’m… I’m so… can I get you some hot cocoa? I’ve got lids, you could take it to go.”

“Really? You think I can go now, with my hair all nasty?” Link furrowed his eyebrows and reached his bare hand out toward the ledge, scooping a large handful of snow into his hand and crushing it together, oblivious to how cold it was in his quest for revenge. “I can’t believe you threw a snowball at me.” He threw the snowball across the distance between them, and it hit Rhett in the chest.

“Seriously? I didn’t even freakin’ do it, man!” Rhett formed a snowball of his own and tossed it at Link, hitting his shoulder.

“Oh yeah? Who did it, then?” Link threw one at Rhett, but Rhett dodged the snowball, causing it to barely whiz past his ear.

“Me!” Stevie threw a snowball at Link from behind a snowman, hitting him on the cheek. Link looked at her raising his arm like he was ready to retaliate.

“You owe Rhett an apology then, because I’m totally going to keep blaming him for it,” he smirked, throwing the snowball at Rhett instead of Stevie, this time the element of surprise on his side. For a long while, the three of them threw snowballs at each other, laughing, falling, and trying to avoid everyone who was making snowmen like Rhett had initially planned on doing. As Rhett turned toward Stevie to throw a snowball, he took his eyes off of Link, allowing Link to get him in the hip. Rhett cracked up, clutching his hip like he was dying and falling back onto the snow with a huff, snow puffing up around him.

Link ran over to Rhett, dropping a dusting of snow onto him unceremoniously, then sitting down beside him and placing his bare hands on each side of Rhett’s face.

“Cold yet? Ready to surrender?” Link asked, and Rhett placed his gloved hands over Link’s frozen bare ones.

“Holy crap, your hands are cold. Here.” Rhett took Link’s hands off of his face, holding them between his own gloved ones, and for a moment, Link just sat there, letting Rhett warm him up. Then it hit him what he was doing, what he was allowing to happen, and his eyes went wide. A sense of panic rose up in his throat.

“I-- I gotta go,” Link stammered, running into the building and away from any job applications he’d hoped to get in that day. Behind him, he heard Rhett and Stevie both encouraging him to wait, to stick around for their snowball fight and for building more snowmen, but Link ignored them, letting the door close between himself and the outside, his feet pounding against the stairs as he ran to his apartment, heart beating wildly in his chest. When the door closed behind him, he leaned against the wall in his apartment entrance, resting his hands on his knees. Tears stung his eyes.  _ How could I be so dumb? _

He worried it might be a repeat of last year, where he’d caught unreciprocated feelings. He couldn’t afford to let himself get attached to anyone here, knowing it would just end like it did back in LA, with Link hurt and trying to pick up the pieces from his own drama and life, keep his secrets, help his mom, juggle all of it while feeling like the world was crashing down. The only way to keep himself safe was to not get close to Rhett at all, to not give in to the holiday cheer Rhett pushed on him. He locked the door behind him, just as he heard knocking come from the other side.

“Link? Can we talk?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe
> 
> Salted Caramel Cocoa Syrup
> 
> 1 stick butter  
> 1 cup granulated sugar  
> 2 teaspoons sea salt  
> 1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder  
> 1 pint heavy whipping cream  
> Milk  
> Desired toppings (caramel, chocolate, sea salt)  
> Coffee (optional)
> 
> In saucepan over medium heat, melt butter.  
> Add sugar and salt, stirring until dissolved, and bring mixture to a simmer.  
> Cook for 5 minutes, stirring often.  
> Add in cocoa powder and mix until combined.  
> Slowly add room temperature whipping cream and whisk until smooth.  
> Cook 5 more minutes. Cool slightly before serving.
> 
> To serve, mix 1/4 Cup of warm syrup with 8 ounces warm milk (or warm milk and coffee, or just coffee). Top with desired toppings and enjoy.
> 
> Makes 12 servings of salted caramel cocoa syrup.


	5. One Lone Snowman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> Oi to the World- The Vandals  
> Carol of the Bells- The Bird and The Bee  
> Jingle Bells- Skid Row  
> Deck the Hall- Nat King Cole

“Link, please, can we just talk?” Rhett wasn’t sure why he was trying, why he kept knocking after Link so clearly didn’t want to talk. He’d heard the lock click. He knew Link was in there, knew Link could hear him. “Okay. Okay, I’ll… I’ll talk to you later, then.” Rhett started to walk away, got halfway up the hall and turned around, just in case Link had changed his mind, had decided to answer the door after all. He didn’t want to be creepy, or stay there knocking too long, and he thought he’d made the right choice to walk away.

He didn’t really know why he kept trying with Link. He’d been so thrown off by Link’s insistence on hating peppermint, on almost seeming to hate all things Christmas, judging by his door and general disposition. He’d even yelled at Rhett a little bit, snapped when he’d had his music on too loud.  _ That was your fault, idiot. It was 2am. He was more than patient with you.  _ But he’d also put a nice note under Rhett’s door, and he’d gotten involved in the snowball fight, even dove across the snow to put his hands on Rhett’s face. Rhett wondered what he’d done to scare Link off, if somehow taking his hands had pushed him too far.  _ Well, yeah, Rhett. You can’t just assume he’d be into guys. You probably scared him off.  _ Rhett didn’t know Link well enough to know how to read him, to know if he’d interpreted Rhett’s move as something more than friendship. Rhett wasn’t even entirely certain it  _ wasn’t  _ an attempt at more than friendship. He shook his head and walked outside.

* * *

 

Link heard Rhett’s footsteps fade down the hall after the knocking stopped. More than anything, Link wanted to answer the door. He wanted so badly to turn the knob, to let Rhett in, to talk things through and explain to Rhett just why Rhett shouldn’t want to be his friend. But answering meant confronting feelings or thoughts Link wasn’t ready to face. Letting a new friend into his life in even the smallest capacity was a recipe for disaster.

Link’s mind immediately snapped back to the year before. He’d had a close friend in his life before Christmas last year, and he was absolutely positive Alex was going to be his lifelong best friend. They connected so quickly, spending all of their time together. With everything they had in common, it felt so natural, and Alex’s kindness was oh-so-easy to read as flirtation. Link realized later that it wasn’t, but it sure felt like it at the time. The way their friendship had crumbled after a misunderstanding under the mistletoe, Link shut himself off. The last thing he wanted was a friend, one that he could accidentally catch feelings for. Either he’d deal with rejection or unrequited love, and neither seemed entirely pleasant, not when he’d moved away from LA to get away from that sort of thing. Friendship wasn’t worth the risk.

Link considered the fact that it might have been worth the risk if Rhett wasn’t attractive. And here, leaned against the wall in the doorway of his apartment, he let his mind go there, let himself accept the fact that he was definitely, completely attracted to Rhett, at least physically. He didn’t have much to go on yet in terms of personality, outside of his obnoxious Christmas cheer. But even in his ridiculous Christmas sweaters and over-the-top cheery personality, Link was definitely attracted. It was for that reason that Link could never,  _ ever  _ be Rhett’s friend.

* * *

 

“Things okay?” Stevie didn’t even let Rhett get all the way outside before starting in on the questions. Link had gone from putting his hands on Rhett’s face to running inside in a matter of minutes, so fast it practically gave her whiplash, and she wanted answers as much as Rhett did, maybe even more.

“I don’t know, actually. He wouldn’t answer the door.” The way Rhett slumped his shoulders as Stevie passed him the mostly-empty thermos of coffee made him look so much smaller than the 6’7” man that he was. He almost appeared tiny as he shrank into himself, leaning against the ledge by the front of the apartments. He looked out over the army of snowmen everyone had built, perking up at the fact that he’d at least spread  _ some  _ cheer that morning.

“He didn’t answer at all? Weird.” Stevie took the coffee from Rhett, sipping it. “Don’t stress about it, though. I mean, what do you even know about him? He’s probably terrible.”

“He’s not, though.” Rhett said the words realizing he had nothing to back it up with, realizing he didn’t know Link well enough to be defending him so adamantly to Stevie. “He hates peppermint. Or at least, peppermint bark. But I’m not sure if he actually hates it or if he said that so I’d take the last box. He got kind of touchy about it. And uh, he doesn’t like people playing Christmas music loudly at two in the morning, but I can’t really hold that against him.”

“ _ That’s  _ who you were apologizing to? Oh my god, Rhett.”

“Oh my god, what, Stevie?” Rhett raised an eyebrow at her shocked expression.

“You didn’t tell me it was  _ that  _ guy before I hurled a freakin’ snowball at him.” Stevie shoved Rhett gently with her elbow.

“Would it have stopped you?” Stevie didn’t even need to answer Rhett’s question for him to know that there was no way it would have stopped her. Heck, she probably would have thrown it sooner had she known.

“No. I’m pretty sure he’s into you, though. Just so you know.”

Rhett shook his head. There was no way Link was interested. Interested people don’t ignore someone knocking on their door and wait for them to go away. Interested people don’t run away when someone holds their hands. Interested people definitely don’t come to the doorway in the middle of the night to yell at you, even if it  _ is  _ your fault.

“He is!” she insisted. “He held your hand after like, twenty minutes of knowing you. He’s totally interested.” It was just Stevie’s way of trying to fix Rhett up with someone. She was endlessly tired of him moping around his apartment. Usually, Rhett wouldn’t mind spending time with someone, but Stevie’s taste in the guys she introduced to him was less-than-stellar. He hadn’t been interested in a single one of them. With both of his friends paired off, he longed for someone to spend Christmas time with, baking or watching holiday movies, really anything. He didn’t even need a boyfriend, not really. He would be happy to have a friend. But Link? There was no chance Link wanted to be Rhett’s friend or anything else. 

“No, he doesn’t like me. And technically, I held his hands. And then he ran away, so…” Rhett trailed off, starting to gather the leftover snowman building supplies. Everyone had wandered in or left to enjoy their other plans for the day as it was.

“Don’t write him off yet. You inviting him to the holiday party?”

“He won’t come.”

“Fine. I’ll invite him,” Stevie said. Her smug expression was not one Rhett was willing to argue with.

_ Fine. Invite him. You’ll see I’m right when he doesn’t show up. _

* * *

 

Link looked outside at the army of snowmen he hadn’t helped build, holding a pie plate in his hand. He hadn’t bothered to cut a slice, just ate straight out of the pan, and now it was half-gone. Frustration and sadness was eating him alive, and he was stuffing it down with as much pie as possible. It wasn’t a healthy way to handle things, but it seemed to be working. Rhett was definitely a skilled baker, Link was sure of that.

He sulked away from the window, from the army of snowmen facing his side of the building. Placing the pie on the counter, he looked at it and then rinsed his fork, a step to stop himself from eating another bite of it. He sank into his chair and scrolled Instagram. It was filled with happy faces back in LA, all enjoying the holiday season with their closest friends, their families, all of the things Link didn’t have here.  _ You could have had a friend _ , Link thought. But following shortly after, his brain ventured back into dark territory.  _ No you can’t. You’ll only screw it up. _

Link sighed and stood up. He pulled out the warmest coat he owned, which wasn’t nearly warm enough considering how cold winters got here compared to back home. His gloves weren’t exactly right for things, either, but they were just going to have to work. He fished around in his produce drawer in his fridge and found a handful of baby carrots. They weren’t perfect, but they’d have to work.

The cold air stung Link’s face, and he could feel the frigid chill through his gloves. He’d have to get new ones, but it could wait. Right now, he had to figure out exactly where he needed to do this. He walked around the side of the building to the back, counting the windows to try to find generally the right spot. And then he started rolling. He rolled a large snowball, then another, and tried to figure out how to get the midsection of his snowman on top of the base. It wasn’t quite like the movies, and his first two attempts crumbled. He was shaking, hands frozen and raw from contact with the snow. He packed the snow tightly, mounding it on top of the base instead of attempting another ball. It was close enough, he decided, as he shaped a head from snow. It was lumpy, not nearly as clean and neat as most of the other ones in front of the building. But for his first snowman, it wasn’t half bad. Link stood back to admire it before remembering why he was making it in the first place. He fished a baby carrot out of his pocket and pushed it into the snowman’s head, forming a nose. He had to improvise for the eyes, picking up some pebbles he’d found on his way around the building. It worked well enough, a couple of makeshift eyes that didn’t quite match but looked enough like eyes just the same.

There was one more thing his snowman needed. Link knew the odds of finding decent sticks were next to none. But he did have a sign, one he’d made and carried outside with him. He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and draped the sign around his snowman’s neck by a thin string he’d found in his junk drawer. He hoped that he’d counted the windows correctly, that the snowman was near enough to Rhett’s apartment for him to see it. If not, he’d spent all of that time in the cold for nothing. As he walked away, headed back inside to warm up, he took one more glance behind him at the snowman he’d left there. In large, black permanent-marker letters, he saw his words boldly.

 

**I’m Sorry.**

 

Inside, Link grabbed his mailbox key out of his pocket and opened the small metal door. Jammed through the top, clearly not from his mailman, was a bright yellow paper.

 

**Holiday Party**

**Apartment 14B**

**December 9 at 8pm**

 

**Bring your favorite cookies**

**& Wear your ugliest sweater**

 

_ Sorry for upsetting you and for the late notice. I hope you come anyway. _

_ There will be a lot of people there, so you don’t have to hang out with me or anything. _

_ I just thought it might be fun. _

 

_ -Rhett _

 

Link cringed at the note handwritten on the bottom. He’d really upset Rhett by his reaction that morning, yet Rhett was still inviting him to the holiday party he was hosting. Link hung his head low, forcing himself to remember that the Rhett who wrote this was not the Rhett who had seen his snowman yet-- he had to have stuck it in Link’s box while Link was outside. Link hoped the snowman would help him understand that he hadn’t done anything wrong, that it truly was Link, not him.

“Hey, you’re Rhett’s new friend, right?” A voice came from behind him, and he turned to see the girl that Rhett had claimed threw the snowball.

“No, I mean, uh… yeah, kind of.” Link tripped over his words. Friends? Not really. Acquaintances until Link freaked out? Definitely. “We’ve, uh… we’ve talked a couple of times. I don’t know.” Why was Link getting into this here, with her? It wasn’t anyone’s business how horribly awkward he was. A simple yes or no would have sufficed, but Link couldn’t seem to leave it there.  _ What’s wrong with me? _

“So you’re coming to the holiday party, right?” She gestured to the yellow paper in his hand, and he turned, making an effort to hide the extra writing at the bottom of his.

“I, uh… I don’t know. I think I have a...a thing. You know? Like, a work thing?” Link stumbled and stuttered, lying through his teeth.

“I thought you said this morning you were going to interviews?” Stevie remembered, calling him out on it.

“Oh, right. Um. I’ll see what I can do.” Link shuffled his feet and reached in the box for the rest of his mail. “I’ll see you around.”

Stevie nodded and gave a small wave, then focused on her own mailbox. Link wanted to go. And at the same time, he didn’t want to go.  _ I don’t even own an ugly sweater.  _ Link considered it, stuffing his mail into the inner pocket of his jacket. He took two steps toward the stairs that led to his apartment before turning around to the front doors and walking to his car. He needed a thicker coat and some gloves, and if he happened to find a sweater while he was there, then maybe, just maybe, he’d go.

* * *

Rhett stirred the soup he had cooking on the stove, using a small spoon to taste before adding pepper and more garlic. It was coming together nicely, and he hoped Chase and whats-her-face would like it.  _ Note to self: find out Chase’s girlfriend’s name before she gets here.  _ He’d invited them to his holiday party, of course, but with both of them already heading out of town back home, they were going to miss it. Rhett talked them into dinner the day before at least, so he was excited they’d be there soon.

__

**Stevie**

__

_ What’s Chase’s gf’s name? I forgot again. _

Delivered, unread.

__

He wandered to the window and peeked out the curtains. The snow was soft now, a few stray flurries rather than actual snowfall. He wished he could see the dozens of snowmen from his own window, but he was on the wrong side of the building. On the other side was Link, who he knew didn’t appreciate them nearly as much.  _ You don’t know that. Maybe he likes them. _

Looking down at the fresh snow, he saw one lone snowman. It looked as if it had intentionally been positioned in front of his window, like it was lined up just right, facing him. On the front of the snowman was a sign.

__

**I’m Sorry.**

__

There wasn’t a signature, or a way that Rhett could know for sure, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist for Rhett to figure out who had built it. Rhett didn’t know what possessed him, if it was his own concern over being the fifth wheel that night for dinner or the snowman Link had clearly left for him, but without a chance to change his mind, he left his apartment, crossing the hall and knocking on Link’s door. The sorry was enough to convince him that inviting Link over for dinner was the right thing to do. As he knocked, though, he got no answer. Maybe he was wrong about the snowman after all.

* * *

Link couldn’t believe he was going to this amount of effort for a party he hadn’t even planned to go to. With the store completely sold out of ugly sweaters, and with him not being the kind of person to keep that sort of thing on hand, he was going the do-it-yourself route, and he wasn’t quite sure that it was working. He plugged in the hot glue gun and inspected it.  _ Does it get warm right away? Is there a switch? How the heck do I work this thing?  _ Link turned the packaging over in his hands, but with no instructions to guide him, he decided to just play around with it. The tip started leaking onto the sweater before he could even push the trigger of the hot glue gun, so he decided that would have to be the first place he’d attach the tinsel he’d purchased.  _ This is so stupid _ .

He stretched tinsel across the shirt from one end to the other, gluing along it, then attaching bows periodically. It was most definitely ugly, and he was absolutely never wearing it again after Rhett’s party, he was certain of that. It had taken him an hour at the store to get everything he needed for it, and he’d forgotten the things he’d gone for, returning home without gloves or a coat. He wasn’t sure why he was so invested in the party. Part of him wished he’d just taken it as the obvious sign it was to skip it altogether. He  _ had  _ remembered to pick up a treat, but with most of the Christmas cookie selection being completely sold out, he hoped everyone would give the white chocolate raspberry cake balls he’d uncovered in the back of the bakery refrigerator case a chance at least.

As he went to glue Christmas ornaments-- actual Christmas ornaments-- to the front of his sweater, he heard a loud clatter outside the door of his apartment. At first, he ignored it, but as the noise got closer, he was able to make out singing and some sort of stomping or stumbling that caused him to open the door. Coming from down the hall and around the corner, Rhett, the girl he’d been with earlier who Link had spoken to at the mailbox, and three other people were ambling--  _ stumbling _ \-- through the hallways sing-screaming Christmas carols loudly. Had they been sober, they might have been in tune, but Link could tell they had all had one or two too many for the singing to be fully coherent. As they finished Jingle Bells, half of them started in on Deck the Halls, with the other starting in on Frosty the Snowman, and all of them trying to catch up to the other’s song, instead ending in laughter.

Link closed the door to his apartment behind him, standing in the hallway to take in the cheery, drunken carolers attempting to spread holiday cheer. As soon as Stevie spotted him, she took Rhett’s hand and practically dragged him to Link’s doorway, the other three following closely behind confused.

“What are we singing?” A shorter man, much shorter than Rhett or Link, stage-whispered to the crowd.

“Shut up, Chase, we’re not singing yet,” the girl from the snowball fight elbowed Chase in the ribs, and he leaped away from her, holding his side.

“Then what are we--” Chase started to ask, but the girl next to him cut him off by starting to sing Silent Night before everyone else joined in. The way they sang it was far from the soft, peaceful tune that evoked the feelings of a truly silent night, but Link smiled and applauded at the end anyway, a few others along the hall standing in their doorways listening as well. Rhett winked and reached his arm out, between Chase and the girl from the snowball fight, toward Link. In it was a single, small candy cane. Link took it with a thanks, and before he could say goodnight, the entire crew was headed to the next open doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe:
> 
> White Chocolate Raspberry Cake Pops
> 
> 1 vanilla cake, baked and crumbled  
> Vanilla frosting (enough to make a play dough texture from the cake and frosting-- about half a container)  
> 1/2 cup frozen raspberries  
> White chocolate, melted  
> Dark chocolate, melted (if desired)  
> 1-2 tsp coconut oil
> 
> Combine cake and frosting until mixture is moldable and forms a play dough consistency.  
> Add in frozen raspberries and shape mixture into balls about 1 to 1 1/2 inches in diameter.  
> Dip cake pop stick into white chocolate and insert into cake pop. Place cake pops in freezer 1-2 hours until firm and cold.  
> Dip balls in white chocolate. Top with desired toppings, like drizzles of dark chocolate.  
> Serve chilled.


	6. Bad Taste In Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree- Brenda Lee  
> Jingle Bell Rock- Bobby Helms  
> It Must Have Been the Mistletoe- Barbara Mandrell  
> All I Want For Christmas Is You- Michael Buble

Rhett scooped more of the cranberry orange concoction Stevie had mixed -- a bit too strongly, if he was being honest -- into his red plastic cup.

“He’s not coming.” They were 45 minutes into the party, and while most of the hall was at the party or had already gone back home for Christmas, there had been no sign of Link.

“I bet you he’ll be here.”

“Everyone’s here. He’s not coming.” Rhett took a sip, wincing at the way the alcohol was overpowering anything else in the punch. As he turned away from the table, he was ready to make the rounds, talk to his friends that  _ were  _ here, and get his mind off of Link.

It was then that Link stepped through the already-open door, a plate of cake pops in hand. As he approached Rhett, he held out the plate and it shook slightly, Link’s nerves getting the best of him. He tried to steady the plate by holding it with both hands until Rhett took it and placed it on the table behind him. Rhett picked one up, popping it into his mouth without even knowing what it was.

“Sorry, the store was all out of cookies. Are these okay? I’m not much of a baker, not like you are.” Link crossed his arms, shrinking into himself slightly.

“They’re great! What flavor are they?” Rhett had a warm smile and it helped draw Link out of his shell as he uncrossed his arms, stood a little bit taller in spite of his nerves about being there.

“White Chocolate Raspberry, I think.” Link was glad that Rhett liked the treats he’d brought, and happy that he didn’t mind Link not actually baking. Link wasn’t positive he even knew  _ how  _ to work an oven. If it couldn’t be microwaved, and was more complicated than cereal, it wasn’t his go-to food choice.

“I like your sweater. You went all-in on the ugly theme!” Rhett clutched his chest with a chuckle. “Oh, crap, unless you didn’t mean for it to be ugly. In that case… uh… nice sweater!”

“It’s definitely supposed to be ugly. I figured the way I could make it the absolute ugliest sweater possible was to make it myself, so I did.” Link left out the part where the store had been completely sold out of anything else.

“Wow, you made it? You  _ did  _ go for it, dang. Want some punch?” Rhett scooped punch into a green plastic cup, handing it to Link. “Oh, careful,” he held a hand over the top of the cup before Link could take a sip, his hand barely missing Link’s lip. “Stevie makes it  _ really  _ strong. Like… really, really strong.” Link nodded as Rhett took his hand away, and as he took a sip, he winced just like Rhett had minutes before. Rhett couldn’t help but smirk at their mirrored reactions, taking another sip of his now that he was used to the strength of it. He’d definitely have to max out at just a couple of them and switch to cinnamon apple cider instead.

“Dang, you were definitely not lying about the punch. Is Stevie’s goal to get us trashed or…?” They both laughed as Rhett picked his way through a few snacks on the table. Link followed suit, munching on a carrot stick.

“She’s more of a Christmas-cheer-by-association-and-alcohol kind of girl. She puts up with my over-the-top cheer, provided there are a few drinks. Speaking of, sorry for our weird drunken caroling last night. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I enjoyed it. You were quite… quite festive.” Link grinned, genuinely meaning the compliment. “So Stevie is your girlfriend?” Link wasn’t quite sure why he was asking. Actually, if he thought about it, he was  _ absolutely  _ sure why he was asking.

“Stevie? Oh God, no! She’s like my little sister. No, uh… no.” Rhett scanned the room for Stevie, then gestured toward her. “Her girlfriend is right there next to her, Cassie.” Link nodded. “Stevie is absolutely amazing… as a great friend. We’re not exactly each other’s type. For one, she has horrible taste in men, or at least she does when she tries to set me up.”

_ Oh _ . With that, Link had an answer he hadn’t let himself know he was looking for.

“Yeah?” was all Link could manage to choke out. His baby carrot that he’d been munching on felt stuck in his throat, and the few sips of alcohol he’d had threatened to come up. Did Rhett know? Could Rhett read that he’d been asking-not-asking about the moment Link had run away from? Did Rhett realize how much of himself Link had hidden from the world?  _ No way. He’s just making conversation,  _ Link’s brain insisted. “Can I, uh… I… I need to use the restroom.” Link was looking for a way out of this conversation before he said something incredibly stupid.

“Oh, okay, yeah, It’s right up the hall on the left.”

Link didn’t need to use the restroom. He needed to take a deep breath. As he stood in Rhett’s bathroom, he splashed water on his face, then stared at himself in the mirror. Part of Link wanted to go out there, give it his all, embrace the new friendships that could await him on the other side of the bathroom door. Another part of him wondered if there was some way to get Rhett under the mistletoe he’d seen on the way in. Still another part of him just wanted to run back to his apartment, hide his head under a pillow, and never speak to anyone in this apartment again. He ruled out the mistletoe--  _ he’s not into you, and you’re definitely not out  _ \-- and he forced himself to rule out running away. So instead, he took another deep breath and opened the door, returning to the party and leaning against the wall, hoping he could observe without being noticed much at all.

“Enjoying the party?”  _ Dammit. _ Stevie approached him, leaning against the wall alongside him.

“Yeah, it’s… it’s great.” Link’s voice was too flat to be convincing.

“I think you need more punch,” Stevie said. “If you drink, at least. If not, there’s a lot of cider left.”

“Yeah, punch… punch is good.” Link figured it might be a way to help get his guard down, just a little at least, and help him pull himself away from the wall and into conversation. Just as he took a couple of sips of the still far-too-strong punch, the playlist they’d been listening to changed to the ever-catchy Jingle Bell Rock. Link wasn’t a fan, but Stevie’s face lit up.

“I love this one! Come on!” She grabbed Link’s hand, tugging him toward the middle of the room, his drink sloshing in his hand. She danced in front of him, encouraging him to do the same, so he tilted back the last of his drink, placed the cup on a nearby coffee table, which was covered in fake snowflakes and a small Christmas village in the center, and started to dance with her. He was probably making a fool of himself, some strange new guy in a room full of people who already knew each other to some degree, but he wasn’t letting himself think about that or focus on it. He was pushing the thoughts out of his head and focusing on the sound of the music and the way most of them were casually dancing and laughing. Before Link knew it, Rhett’s hands were on his shoulders, turning Link toward him.

“Hey, you’re a good dancer,” Rhett said, just loud enough to be heard over the music that he’d cranked up. If everyone was at the party, no one could complain about the music being too loud. Stevie danced next to them, getting enough into Link’s personal bubble that he had to move over to make room for her. Rhett moved, too, like he wanted to dance near Link regardless of where Link was. The little trio moved out of the center of the room for others to dance there, instead dancing closer to the fringe edges of the group.

“Dude, guys, look up.” They both did, seeing the mistletoe Stevie had somehow positioned the two of them under without them knowing what she was doing until it was too late.

“Mistletoe,” Link stated the obvious.

“We don’t have… I mean… if you don’t want…” Rhett stammered. Rhett most certainly wanted to, but after his revelation to Link earlier in the evening, and the way Link had run off when they’d just held hands for a moment, he didn’t want to push the issue, didn’t want Link to feel pressured in any way. Link didn’t let him get the sentence out, though, tugging at Rhett’s shirt enough to bring him down as Link popped up on his tiptoes to press a quick, chaste kiss to Rhett’s lips.

“I need more punch,” Link said, turning his back to Stevie and Rhett and walking back to the snack table without even a glance back at the pair. Rhett stood in stunned silence. He couldn’t seem to process what had just happened.  _ He only kissed you because of the mistletoe, because Stevie was watching and he  _ had  _ to.  _ Rhett was certain he hadn’t actually wanted to kiss him.

“Told you,” Stevie muttered under her breath.

“It was just the mistletoe. He didn’t  _ actually  _ want to kiss me.” Rhett had decided that it was true, that Link was just doing what was expected, until Stevie elbowed him hard. Link was approaching, two cups of punch in hand, and as he got close enough, he passed one to Rhett. He tugged on Rhett’s shirt softly, just enough to pull him out from under the mistletoe. Rhett shot a glance at Stevie, an indication to leave so they could talk. She obliged, going back to the party, and Rhett turned his full attention to Link.

“Here’s the deal, Rhett. I hate mistletoe.”

_ I knew it. _

“I hate mistletoe because it kind of makes it seem like you’re kissing someone because you have to, not because you actually  _ want  _ to,” Link continued.

_ I freakin’ knew it. Thanks a lot, Stevie. _

“But the thing is,” Link took a deep breath and a sip of his drink, “I actually did want to kiss you. And I thought you should probably know that. In case you thought I just did it because of the mistletoe. Anyway, I’ve got to go, so uh…” Link didn’t have anywhere he needed to be. He just didn’t want to stick around long enough to hear Rhett’s response to his sudden confession.

“So uh?” Rhett asked, letting his hand come up to touch Link’s cheek. It was enough to make Link tilt his head up, and this time, there was no mistletoe, no quick kiss, but an actual one they both softened into, one they had both been dancing around since they’d met. For a moment, the party seemed to fade, the music growing quieter behind them, not because it had been turned down, but because everything they were experiencing seemed so amplified. Link  _ did  _ want to kiss Rhett, and Rhett wanted to kiss him back, and they did, entirely focused on each other for just a couple of minutes. It didn’t matter that they were standing at the side of the room, and Link’s concerns about what everyone might think grew quiet if only for the amount of time he felt Rhett’s lips on his, Rhett’s tongue grazing his lower lip. Certain now that they’d gotten it right, without the mistletoe forcing them, they pulled apart from each other. Rhett looked him in the eyes earnestly. “Please don’t go yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe  
> Kiss Under the Mistletoe Shots (Makes 10 shots)
> 
> Rim tall shot glasses with dark chocolate syrup and peppermint pieces.
> 
> In a blender, combine 1 scoop chocolate ice cream, 1 ounce Bailey's, 1 tsp dark chocolate syrup, and 1 tsp peppermint bits. Fill each shot glass 1/3 of the way. Place in freezer while you blend second layer.
> 
> Rinse blender and combine 1 scoop peppermint ice cream, 1 oz Bailey's, and 1 Tablespoon peppermint bits. Fill shot glasses another 1/3 full. Place back in freezer.
> 
> Rinse blender and combine 1 scoop vanilla ice cream, 1 oz Bailey's, and 2 oz safe-to-eat sugar cookie dough. Blend, fill shot glasses the rest of the way.
> 
> Top with whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and peppermint bits.
> 
> To virginize, substitute coffee creamer for Bailey's in recipe.


	7. Too Much Punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening  
> Christmastime- Smashing Pumpkins  
> White Christmas- Bright Eyes  
> Winterlong- Pixies  
> That Was the Worst Christmas Ever- Sufjan Stevens

Link stood in Rhett’s kitchen, his hands submerged in soapy water as he washed the punch bowl. It was long emptied, the party over, and he was happy to help with the dishes. It gave him a few more minutes to talk to Rhett, Stevie, and Cassie after all of the other guests had returned to their own apartments for the night. Rhett had done a good job of convincing Link to stay for the rest of the party when he’d been set on making an appearance and leaving. And, once Rhett had introduced Link to nearly everyone there, Link was finally starting to feel a little more comfortable. He knew after the new year, he’d be seeing them in classes or working with them on campus, and it was reassuring to get to know some of the fellow students he’d be interacting with. Rhett was fun to be around, and the people he surrounded himself with were great, too, so when the party ended, Link found himself not really wanting to leave, which is why he remained in Rhett’s kitchen, washing dishes.

Behind him, Stevie picked at some of the leftover snacks, lifting a sticky green mass to her mouth, a holly candy left behind by one of the guests. Rhett watched as Cassie shook her head disapprovingly at the green residue on Stevie’s hand as Stevie threatened to smear it onto her. They were cute together, almost sickeningly so, Rhett thought. He loved how close they were, how in love they seemed, and hoped that someday, he’d know feelings like that, too. Tonight was a good step in the right direction, and while Rhett wasn’t about to get ahead of himself, first kisses with someone as special as Link seemed like a good indicator the tide was turning in his favor.

Link was so relaxed as he scrubbed each dish clean. He couldn’t help but laugh, relax around the people that Rhett had referred to, in a spontaneous toast, as “chosen family.” Link always used to think that concept was so cheesy-- in his mind, you’re given a family, and you didn’t have to like them, but they were family nonetheless. Friends were friends, family was family, the lines were clear. But after seeing the way Rhett interacted so comfortably with Stevie and Cassie, with a few of his close friends at the party, Link did start to see the difference. Given enough time with these people, living this close to them, Link could see that eventually, he might consider them chosen family himself. He wasn’t there yet, not by any means, still on the fringes of the group that interacted with their own inside jokes and ease with each other, but he understood how it could potentially happen. If he made the effort for a change, maybe someday he could be fully a part of their world. He wanted to give it a good effort, at least.

As Link sat the dishes to dry, he turned to the conversation they were having. Rhett leaned into him, letting their shoulders graze. It was almost unnoticeable, how close they were, but to Link, it felt like an electric shock coursing through his veins. It was such a slight, minor version of intimacy, one Link would have brushed off if it happened days before, but after their kiss earlier, it felt electrifying and intense. Link had hoped by staying that he’d get a few minutes alone with Rhett, just long enough to ask him to coffee or something, but the later it got, the less likely that seemed. Cassie and Stevie were still flirting and enjoying themselves, and for a moment, Link wondered if they’d even notice if he talked to Rhett right there, asked him out. Probably not, but for some reason, Link wanted to have that moment alone without the prying ears and eyes of Rhett’s friends.

“Hey, come here,” Rhett seemed to read Link’s mind, asking him to follow before Link could make a decision about whether or not to ask Rhett in the middle of the kitchen. Link did as Rhett asked, following him from the kitchen to the living room. In the open floorplan, they were essentially still in the same place, but it put enough space between them and the girls to talk somewhat privately.

“W-what’s up?” Link asked as casually as he could muster, knowing that inside, his body felt like it had been set on fire. He was like a teenager with a crush, nervous to speak.

“Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you, over here just the two of us.” Link liked the sound of what Rhett had to say, the idea that Rhett wanted to just talk. “I’m glad we’re neighbors, y’know?” Rhett continued, his hand grazing Link’s leg. Link gazed into Rhett’s eyes, tempted to lean over and kiss him again, but holding himself back so Rhett could keep talking. “I honestly thought I’d never see you again after that day at Trader Joe’s, but until you came over that night, I had been hoping you’d been enjoying the peppermint bark.”

“You thought about me after Trader Joe’s?” Link was stunned. He’d certainly thought of Rhett after that, every time he opened his cabinet to see the unopened box of peppermint bark on his shelf. He thought about Rhett even more after the night he’d yelled at him, and each interaction they had made him think of Rhett even more. But to hear that it was mutual, to hear that Rhett had thought of him, too, despite his grumpy attitude, said a lot.

“Of course I did. Couldn’t get the question of whether or not your ‘friend’ liked the peppermint bark out of my head,” Rhett said with a smile and a small nudge.

“Maybe my ‘friend’ is just waiting to share the peppermint bark with someone who loves it a lot. You don’t happen to know someone who is a fan, do you?” Link winked at Rhett, then wondered if that was a bit  _ too much  _ and if he should have scaled it back.  _ Too late now, loser _ . “Maybe a someone who wants to get coff--”

Before Link could finish asking Rhett out, the bathroom door opened and made them both jump. As far as anyone had known, it seemed, Rhett, Link, Stevie, and Cassie were the only ones in the apartment. Link turned toward the disruption to see an incredibly intoxicated man stumble into the room from the hallway. He got a large grin, toppling onto Rhett’s lap with measured precision despite how wasted he seemed. He wrapped his arms around Rhett like it was the most natural thing in the world, pulling him in for a kiss, his fingers running through Rhett’s hair as he held him close. Rhett struggled to pull back from it, but when he did, the guy rested his head on Rhett’s shoulder.

“Mmm, I missed y’ so much, Rhett,” he breathed, “It’s been so freakin’ long. Why aren’t we ever t’gether anymore?” His words slurred together, but they were clear enough to make Link’s heart sink. Whoever this guy was, he certainly had a lot of feelings for Rhett, and Rhett wasn’t exactly rushing to push him away. Link stood up. Clearly it was time for him to leave.

Rhett looked up at Link apologetically. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. He’d had a lot of hopes and dreams for this party, and it had gone better than he’d expected, but his hopes and dreams did not include his ex-boyfriend falling drunkenly into his lap and kissing him in front of the guy he wanted to ask out. He’d planned to jokingly ask Link to get peppermint mochas, then convince Link into dinner instead, but as it sounded, it seemed like Link was working his way into asking Rhett first. Until Mike fell into his lap, and Rhett became responsible for getting him home.

“Okay, Mike, let’s get you home,” Rhett shifted Mike off of his lap and onto the spot on the couch that Link had occupied.

“Hey, Rhett, I can get him home,” Stevie offered, glancing back and forth between Rhett and Link. She was giving Rhett the opportunity to explain to Link what was happening, to clear things up and save the opportunity for them to go on a date. Mike let out a weak groan of protest instead as Stevie approached.

“Don’t wanna go with Stevie, wanna go home with my Rhett,” Mike’s eyes were half closed, his limbs limp. Link hadn’t even seen this man at the party, and yet here he was, draped all over Rhett and leaning onto his shoulder, drooling.

“No, Mike, go with Stevie,” Rhett said, and as he stood up, pulled Mike up and into Stevie’s arms so she could situate him, lean him against her to walk him back to his apartment, Rhett turned to talk to Link. Instead, he found an empty space and an open door.

Clearly, whoever Mike was, he had more history with Rhett and demanded his full attention right now. Link couldn’t argue with that, wasn’t about to wait around until Rhett had the time to finish their conversation. It was clear that Mike wouldn’t accept anyone else taking him home, and Link could imagine if Rhett took him home, a whole lot more than kissing was about to happen. In his mind, he tried to replay the reel, tried to remember if Rhett had kissed Mike back, and as he did, the kisses he’d shared with Rhett and the one Rhett shared with Mike less than two hours later blurred together until he was sure that he was just a holiday stand-in for who Rhett really wanted to be with. Whatever it was, he’d let himself get caught up in punch and mistletoe and the holiday cheer he’d so strongly been against. He’d let Rhett’s cheer rub off on him, get the best of him, and there was one thing that he needed to remember to survive the holidays: don’t give in. As he laid his head on his pillow, he was absolutely certain he’d had his first and last kiss with Rhett that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe  
> Holly Candy  
> 3 Tbsp butter  
> 10 oz marshmallows or mini marshmallows  
> 5 cups corn flakes  
> Green food coloring  
> Red hot candy or red M&Ms
> 
> In a saucepan over medium heat, melt butter and add marshmallows, stirring until melted. Stir in food coloring and remove from heat  
> Stir in corn flakes.  
> Drip by tablespoonfuls onto parchment paper and decorate with 3 red hot candies or 3 red M&Ms.


	8. Another Drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> Hallelujah- Theory of a Deadman (or your favorite version)  
> Flowers In December- Mazzy Star  
> O Christmas Tree- Jim Brickman  
> Icicles- Louis Landon

Three drinks in, which was probably two drinks more than Link should have allowed himself that night, he still wasn’t sure why he was letting this get to him so much. It had been nearly a week, a week where he’d barely seen Rhett outside of passing by each other in the halls without so much as a wave or small nod. It wasn’t like Rhett wasn’t trying-- he was. Link even found a mini candy cane taped to his door when he came home the night before. It was only making things worse, the constant reminders of how well things had gone before crashing and burning miserably.

Link had been stationed at the stood at the bar three blocks from his apartment for awhile and he didn’t see himself going home anytime soon. Obviously, he couldn’t blame Rhett for what had happened at the party, and Mike must have had a good reason to get so trashed and be all over Rhett, so he couldn’t blame Mike, either. After all, Link was at a bar, getting trashed, and that was all about Rhett, too.  _ It’s not about Rhett,  _ Link tried, and failed, to convince himself.

He wasn’t sure why it was all hitting him so hard. It wasn’t like he and Rhett had even spent much time together. The kiss should have meant absolutely nothing to him, a simple kiss between acquaintances at a holiday party. But Link had to admit that, for him at least, it  _ did  _ mean something. For him, it meant the first time he’d kissed a guy in public, the first time he’d let that part of himself be so open, not hiding it from the world or from a family who would never understand. It was the first time he’d let himself be fully, completely himself. And he’d been shot down.

Maybe it wasn’t about Rhett at all. Maybe it was a little bit about Rhett. But mostly, maybe it was about more than  _ just  _ Rhett, but about Link and his own struggles with himself and Christmas and everything else going on in his head. Link finished his drink, waving the bartender over to get him another. He’d picked a cranberry orange thing because it sounded good, but it ended up being similar enough to the punch Stevie had made to aid him in his self-loathing and his wallowing at the bar over dumb mistakes. The taste of the drink sent his mind spiraling back to the moment when Mike had stumbled out of the bathroom, and back to the courage Link had to muster to kiss Rhett in a room full of people, and back to before he moved here from LA, when he was so good at hiding who he was.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, how he was feeling. It was just how Christmas went for him, why he hated it so much now. Christmas was the season of hopes before soul-crushing disappointment. It was the reason Link was at this bar specifically, rather than the one a block closer to his apartment. This one happened to be miraculously void of any sign of Christmas, his orange-cranberry drink aside. As he started in on drink number four, he was starting to wonder if coming here was the right choice after all. He’d applied to other programs, and though this had been the first ticket out of LA that he could get, it certainly wasn’t his only option. He wondered if it was too late to transfer, to change his mind and go somewhere else, anywhere else, as far away from both LA and the bar he was sitting in, from Rhett, as possible. They barely knew each other, and he reasoned that it shouldn’t take him long to forget about the impossibly tall, impossibly cheerful man.

“Hey, Link.”

Link jumped at the sound of a familiar voice beside him. It was startling. Stevie wasn’t the last person he wanted to see, but she was about as close to the last person as he wanted to see as he could get. After all, seeing Stevie just made him think of Rhett, and thinking of Rhett just made him think of Mike kissing Rhett, and… he figured he might just need another drink.

“Hi, Stevie,” Link replied, his eyes staying focused on a speck of dust on the countertop, anything to avoid looking at her. He trained his eyes on the dust like he was trying to set it on fire, like he could if he thought about it hard enough.

“You alright?” She asked, leaning against the counter and waiting for the bartender to come closer so she could order a beer.

“I’m… yeah, I’m great, thanks.” Link was lying through his teeth. It occurred to him that almost every conversation he’d had with Stevie had been full of lies. He’d lied at the mailboxes, and he was lying now. He wasn’t okay, he wasn’t anywhere close to okay, and he wasn’t quite sure why he was so unwilling to admit that to her. “Actually, uh, no. I’m not okay.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Mercifully, Stevie didn’t ask if Link was upset because of the Christmas party, and he figured maybe she’d forgotten by now anyway. It had been a week, and he didn’t assume anyone would think it was still what he was upset about. He thought maybe, just maybe it was part of what she was getting at, though.

“You know when I kissed Rhett under the mistletoe?” Link paused, still unwilling to look at Stevie, but out of the corner of his eye, he could still see her nod. “That was, uh… it was… it was the first time I’d ever kissed a guy where someone could see. That sounds so dumb admitting, God, I’m sorry, that’s dumb.” He had just enough drinks in him to be loose with his words, to stop him from filtering what he was saying, but not enough drinks in him to be okay with what he’d said, to not feel a sense of shame talking about it. “It was the first time I was actually open about… open about…” He stumbled on his words, trying to blink away the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, “open about being gay.” He’d never actually said it before, not out loud.

Stevie took a deep breath and a long swig of her beer, then placed her hand gently on Link’s arm. He turned to look at her for the first time in their conversation, and he saw a look of understanding flash across her face.

“That’s a huge deal, Link. It was really, incredibly brave to put yourself out there like that. And… with everything that happened after, I get why you’re upset. Just… just don’t give up, okay? On being yourself, or on Rhett.”

“I was going to ask him out sometime, y’know?” Link turned his face away again, looking back at the speck of dust on the bar. “But uh, Mike said something about he and Rhett being together, so… I don’t know. I didn’t want to get in the way of that.”

“It’s not what you think, Link. Have you talked to Rhett about it? About Mike, and about what happened there?” Stevie turned around, leaning back against the bar counter, trying to catch Link’s eye a little better, to get him to really listen to what she was saying. “They’re over, Link. It’s been over for a long time. Mike knows that.”

“Mike didn’t seem like he knew that at the party, and if he did know it, he certainly wasn’t okay with it.” Link drained his glass, wondering if he should order another or cut himself off there.

“Mike left Rhett, and if you’d talk to Rhett, I’m sure he’d tell you the whole story. Mike’s just… he’s one of those guys that’s never going to be happy with what he’s got. He’s a good guy, but being a good guy and being the  _ right  _ guy for him, they’re two different things.”

“But Mike still has a thing for Rhett, clearly. What about Rhett? Is he still into Mike?” Link was in too deep, asking questions he’d never dream of asking if he hadn’t been drinking. He couldn’t help it. He needed to know, wanted to know what the story was there.

“I think all of those are things you should probably ask Rhett yourself.” Stevie stood up. It wasn’t her story to tell, not really, and it wasn’t fair of Link to put her in the position to tell it. He couldn’t help it, though.

“Thanks,” Link said before ordering another drink. He turned away from her. There was no freaking way he was going to ask Rhett about it.

“You’re not going to, are you?” Stevie sat down again, next to Link. It was clear in the way he had turned away, in the way he was making quick work of another drink, one step closer to drinking himself into oblivion, that he was never going to ask Rhett.

“Mike’s seeing someone. He’s not happy with her, not really, but he wasn’t happy with Rhett either. He saw you two kiss, and he ran off. I just assumed he left the party after that, but apparently not. I think he misses what they had, but I also think he remembers himself as happier than he was. They fought all the time, and they had different goals in life. Rhett moved on, and Mike will, too.”

“Oh,” Link picked at fuzz on his sleeve.

“Rhett was going to ask you out, too. He told me after you left. Something about peppermint mochas and you not liking peppermint and some sort of weird running thing between you two? I don’t know.” She waved her hand dismissively. “What I do know is that you’re going to give me your keys and Cassie is going to drive us home in a little bit.”

“I walked here.” It was true, he’d walked there to avoid making any worse decisions than drinking to forget.

“You’re getting a ride anyway. It’s too cold for you to walk back. But first, you’re going to play darts with us.”

Link was horrible at darts. It didn’t take long for him to accidentally throw a dart at a board three down from their own, narrowly missing another patron collecting his own darts from the board. Link thanked his lucky stars that he had people who actually cared enough to spend time with his mopey self, was thankful for the fact that Cassie would drive to keep him from having to walk home, cold and drunk. He wasn’t sure he was quite ready to ask Rhett on a date, but he felt a little bit better about everything in spite of himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe
> 
> Cranberry Orange Spritz
> 
> 3 Cups Cranberry Juice (unsweetened, not the juice cocktail kind)  
> 2 Cups orange juice  
> 1 bottle (750 ml) vodka  
> 1 1/2 Cups lemon juice  
> 1 Cup sugar  
> 2 Cups cranberry ginger ale (or regular ginger ale)
> 
> In a punch bowl, combine all ingredients except Ginger Ale. Chill. Top with ginger ale and serve by the cupful with orange slices and sugared cranberries.
> 
> To make sugared cranberries, the day before you plan to enjoy the drink, pour 2 cups cranberries into a pan so they are side-by-side in a single layer. In a saucepan, boil 1 cup water with 1 1/2 cups sugar. Boil for 5-10 minutes to reduce into a syrup. Let cool for 10 minutes before pouring over cranberries and leaving them to soak overnight. Drain off excess syrup, then toss cranberries with 1 cup sugar. Dry on a pan at room temperature until ready to serve.
> 
> 16 servings. To virginize, omit vodka.


	9. Soup for Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> 7 O'Clock News/Silent Night- Simon and Garfunkle  
> Just a Lonely Christmas- The Supremes  
> No Christmas For Me- Zee Avi  
> Winter Song- The Head and The Heart  
> Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas- Judy Garland

Link hadn’t been in Trader Joe’s since he’d met Rhett for the first time. He hadn’t really stopped to think about that until he found himself parked in front of it, willing himself inside to shop for Christmas dinner. Spending it alone wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t exactly have another option, and he wasn’t flying back home and reliving that trouble. No, Christmas alone was the best option, and Link willed himself into the cold air and into the store in spite of how pitiful his Christmas plans seemed to be.

It didn’t take him long to start filling his basket with junk food, foods that he found comforting, trying not to think about the fact that he still hadn’t talked to Rhett. Stevie had encouraged him to, and he’d certainly meant to, but the execution was a little bit fuzzy. He wasn’t sure how to approach Rhett, to knock on his door and say “I’m sorry I assumed you were still dating the guy drunkenly kissing you but hey wanna get coffee sometime?” So instead, Link kept the distance they’d put between themselves. Or that he’d put between them. He wasn’t exactly sure. If Rhett was actually interested, Link assumed he would have said hello or made some sort of move. But he hadn’t, not really, and Link figured it was best if he just moved on. Eventually, he’d forget, or he’d stop caring quite so much. After all, they were just acquaintances, and Link was working desperately hard to remember that.

Link’s heart leaped, then immediately sank, when he saw a display of peppermint bark. It was completely restocked in advance of Christmas, a far cry from the empty shelves that had been there when he’d met Rhett, a silent tug-of-war over the last box. He placed a box in his cart, despite not liking it and still having Rhett’s unopened box at home in his cabinet. He hadn’t touched it. For some reason, though, he felt compelled to buy it regardless. Christmas was fast approaching, and despite his indifference to all things peppermint, he knew he’d be stuffing down the peppermint bark and any other food he could comfort himself with as he spent the time alone. It would give him something to do instead of actually  _ feeling  _ things.

_ Right. Christmas.  _ Link had come to the store for one thing, Christmas dinner. Obviously, he had no intention of preparing a full dinner for himself to enjoy alone, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to buy some lunch meat, make a turkey sandwich for Christmas. He wasn’t sure. As long as it had some turkey in it, maybe some vegetables, and he had some sort of dessert, it counted as Christmas dinner, right? He had to hope so, because as it stood, it was his only option. The store was crowded, which was usually something he absolutely hated. He’d hated it every year, but especially this one, a reminder that Christmas was spent alone. But right now, the crowds in the store seemed arguably better than his empty apartment, where he’d be sitting alone in the dark. He turned down an aisle, hoping to find anything better than a sandwich.  _ Turkey Vegetable Soup _ . The label stood out to him, and he settled on that, picking up a can, two, three for Christmas dinner and the days leading up to it. It wasn’t the best Christmas dinner, but it had to be better than nothing.

“Hey.”

Link jerked out of his thoughts quickly, looking up to see Rhett in front of him. He’d gone to Rhett’s door countless times, lifted his hand as if to knock, and chickened out at the last minute more than a few times, but now there was no chickening out, not unless he planned to sprint out of the store without a word. So instead, he just shuffled his feet, looking at the floor.

“Hey.”

“So, uh… I’m… uh…” Rhett stumbled on his words. He wanted to apologize for the Christmas party, to explain, to do anything he could to help Link get it, to realize he was planning on asking Link out, that he still really wanted to, but also that he didn’t want to push. He’d tried prying and even alcohol to get Stevie to tell him why Link had been so nervous, but all she could keep saying was “It’s his story to tell.” Rhett didn’t know what to make of that, so he steered clear of Link entirely, save for the one mini candy cane he’d left at his door.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” Link said, helping Rhett move forward with the conversation after the awkward silence. “I didn’t know the story between you and Mike, kind of still don’t I guess, but it was… I don’t know. A lot happened that night and I just needed some time to process.”

“So did you?”

“Did I what?” Link wasn’t quite sure what Rhett was getting at, couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“Process.”

“Oh. I… I don’t know. It’s really complicated, and it’s really hard to explain, and I’m not exactly sure that…” Link looked around. He wasn’t sure that the middle of Trader Joe’s was the right setting to tell Rhett “hey, it was my first time ever kissing a guy and admitting to myself that yeah, I’m gay as heck, and yeah, I’m really into this dude.” So instead, he stopped himself from finishing the words, from saying everything he needed to.

“Do you have any plans for Christmas?” Rhett changed the subject, sensing Link’s tension and nerves.

“I do, actually. I have a really, really hot date with,” he fished around in his basket, and for a moment, he thought he saw Rhett’s face fall, disappointed, “this can of Turkey Vegetable Soup.” He held it up, letting Rhett see the label. Instead, Rhett took the can out of his hand and placed it back on the shelf beside them. It wasn’t exactly in the right place, but Link was focused on the fact that Rhett had taken his soup instead of focused on where he was putting it.

“No, you don’t.”

“I don’t?” Link moved the items in his basket carefully, covering the other two cans he’d placed inside of it.

“Come over. We have dinner around two, and it’s… it’s everyone who is still in town. Or rather, it’s usually me, Cassie, Stevie, a couple of others.”

“Mike?”

“No, not Mike.” Rhett’s voice was firm there. If Mike  _ had  _ been invited, and judging by what Stevie had said the other day at the bar, there was no way he was in the first place, Rhett seemed to make it clear that he’d be uninvited the moment Link accepted.

“Two? Do I need to bring anything?” Link couldn’t believe he was actually considering going to this Christmas party, couldn’t believe that he was letting himself give in, attend another Christmas gathering at Rhett’s place, risk putting his heart on the line for the sake of not spending Christmas alone.

“Just bring yourself. That’s more than enough to make Christmas special.” Rhett worried he’d gone too far, said too much, let on how much he truly wanted Link to be there and how much he really did like him and want to get to know him better. If he could eat his words, he would, take them back out of the air between them, but then he saw Link smile and blush.

When Rhett got home, hours after finishing his shopping, he nearly tripped over the small box at his door. As he placed his grocery bags on the floor beside him, fiddling with the key before picking up the box, he saw a note attached.

 

**_Saw this at the store and thought of you. My heart might actually grow three sizes this season after all… or some other cheesy thing like that. See you on the 25th._ **

 

There was no signature, but none was necessary. There was only one person who would leave a note like that attached to a box of peppermint bark at his door. It was the one person he really, genuinely wanted to spend Christmas with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe
> 
> Turkey Vegetable Soup
> 
> 1 stick (1/2 cup) butter  
> 1 medium onion, diced  
> 4 cloves garlic, minced  
> 1 tsp salt  
> 1/2 tsp pepper  
> 1/3 cup flour  
> 1 carton (32 oz) chicken broth  
> 3 cups water  
> 2 medium potatoes, diced  
> 3 carrots, chopped small  
> 3 stalks celery, chopped small  
> 2 cups frozen corn  
> 1 cup chopped cooked turkey or chicken  
> 1 quart half and half
> 
> In bottom of large stock pot, melt butter. Add onion, garlic, salt, and pepper, stirring often until onion is translucent.  
> Add flour, stirring until thick.  
> Add broth, stirring to dissolve flour mixture.  
> Add vegetables and bring to boil. Allow to boil 20-30 minutes until vegetables are tender.  
> Add half and half.  
> Add additional seasonings to taste.  
> Simmer 20-30 minutes longer, serving hot.


	10. Unexpected Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> Merry Christmas Everybody- Oasis  
> I'll Be Home for Christmas- Black Label Society  
> Carol of the Bells- Lindsey Sterling  
> You're All I Want for Christmas- Bing Crosby

Link Neal was not going to Christmas dinner without bringing something. Regardless of Rhett’s insistence that he not bring anything on the day they’d met at Trader Joe’s, and in the hallway on Christmas Eve, he was determined to bring  _ something _ . It’s why he stood in the wine aisle at the liquor store, trying to decide on exactly which one to bring. He didn’t know what Rhett’s guests would like, and with Rhett being so insistent he not bring anything, asking him seemed out of the question. Instead, he simply stared at the wine selection and grabbed his favorite white and his favorite red. If Rhett had already purchased wine for dinner, at least maybe Rhett could enjoy them himself, Link hoped.

He wasn’t used to going to Christmas dinner with anyone but family, wasn’t used to spending his Christmas with people he actually  _ wanted  _ to spend it with, and a tingle of excitement trickled through him, a feeling of electricity and joy. It was the first time he’d truly let the joy consume him after a season of not letting it touch him at all. And though Rhett had said nothing about gifts, when Link spied the boxes of mini candy canes at the checkout, he couldn’t resist picking one up. He’d wrap it, he figured, put a bow on it, make it look amazing.

His execution was a little shaky, though, having forgotten his inability to wrap presents completely. He tried a few times, cutting, taping, ripping it off and starting over. By the time he got to the end of the roll, he found himself driving, on Christmas Eve, back to the store for a gift bag. Finding one was near-impossible, but eventually he located the perfect one. When he arrived home, though, he found it not fitting in the bag at all. His frustration was clear as he let out a growl of discontent just as a knock sounded at his door. He stalked over, still frustrated, and yanked it open.

“Yes?” His grumpy voice and expression was obvious, and Stevie held up her hands in surrender.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t, sorry. I’ve been trying to wrap this gift all day and ended up with the wrong bag.” He sighed. “Come on in.”

“Want some help?” She offered, stepping into his apartment. Link realized he hadn’t even asked why she’d come over, instead letting her help him. She carefully used the last of his wrapping paper to cover the candy cane box easily, flawlessly, a seamless flat wrapping job. As she carefully peeled back the backing on the bow Link had purchased, she secured it to the top right. It looked professionally done, and he was in awe.

“How’d you even do that?”

“I’ve got a lot of practice.” She passed the box to him, and he wrote Rhett’s name on a tag. “Are you coming to Rhett’s Christmas dinner tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I am.” He was happy to answer that he’d be there, proud of the fact that he and Rhett had managed to actually talk.

“Good. If you weren’t planning on going, I was mostly here to convince you to go. I’ve been worried about you two.”

“Worried?”

“Neither of you seem particularly willing to actually  _ talk  _ to each other. I didn’t tell Rhett why the kiss kind of stressed you out, by the way. But I do think you should tell him that it was your first one like… like that. I think it’s only fair for him to know why you panicked. And I think  _ he  _ needs to tell you that it’s over with Mike so you don’t keep worrying about that. I think both of you need to communicate, but I don’t know how to make that happen. So I came over to make sure you were going if you’d thought about skipping it.” Stevie was calm and careful with her words, and Link appreciated that she cared so much. He felt lucky to consider her one of his first friends here, and was happy that she cared enough to actually intervene so early on.

“Thank you. But really, I do plan to go. I already bought some wine. I hope that’s okay, Rhett said not to bring anything. I didn’t feel right coming without something, though.” Link gestured to the wine sitting on the counter.

“I’m sure he’ll love it, Link.” Stevie stood and walked toward the door. “Don’t forget, tomorrow at 2. If you don’t show up, I’m totally hunting you down.” A laugh played on her lips, a smile that showed Link she was only partially serious. He wouldn’t put it past her to come over, to drag him out of his apartment over to Rhett’s. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to, he was sure. He  _ wanted  _ to be there. As he closed the door behind Stevie after exchanging goodbyes and a quick hug, he walked over to fix his soup. Since he wasn’t spending Christmas dinner alone, he was able to eat it for Christmas eve. But as he opened the can, another knock sounded at the door. He fully expected it to be Stevie, having forgotten a key piece of information, or Rhett, reminding him about tomorrow.

“What the  _ hell  _ are you doing here?” Link struggled to pick his jaw up off of the floor. Of all of the people standing outside of his door, this was the one he’d expected least.

“I could ask you the same thing, ditching the family to come to LA right before the holidays. Really, Link?” His step-sister, who he hadn’t seen in three years, walked inside of his apartment without invitation, two suitcases in hand. “Oh, and what’s with this?” She handed him a mini candy cane, tape still attached from where Rhett had taped it to his door. He smiled slightly as he took it, a small token of flirtation from Rhett.

“How did you even know where I was?” Link had told his mother where he was going, obviously, but he hadn’t mentioned it to his ex-stepfather, or to his step-sister…  _ ex  _ step-sister… for good reason.

“Dad told me. Anyway, I need to crash here for a few days. Bryan and I broke up and your mom already said I couldn’t stay there.” Of  _ course  _ she couldn’t stay there. Why would she even think about staying with his mom?

“Why aren’t you staying at your dad’s? Like, sorry you broke up, but you really can’t stay here.” She could. There was no policy preventing it, no rules that kept him from having her there. But the thought of her being there, well, it was the worst possible idea. And since she had shown up the night before Christmas, bringing her to Rhett’s uninvited was out of the question. It meant that Link had to miss Rhett’s Christmas dinner. It wasn’t fair for him to bring her along without giving Rhett a head’s up, and he definitely didn’t want her there, not when he recognized his complete inability to avoid staring at Rhett. He wasn’t out to his family, was barely out to himself for good reason. They were insanely conservative for a city like LA, and the thought of any of them knowing? It made him nervous.

“He’s crashing in his car again, and I am  _ not  _ sleeping in the backseat. Anyway, I found out where you were, and here I am!”

“You can stay tonight but you need to find someplace else to stay tomorrow.” Link didn’t want to throw her out or be rude, but she wasn’t his responsibility and he didn’t particularly like her that much.

“Find a place on Christmas? Really?” By her tone, it sounded more like Link had asked her to catapult herself to the moon (a concept that seemed just as well to him) than find somewhere else to stay. “I’ll find one before the New Year, promise. So where’s your guest room?”

“One bedroom. There isn’t one. That’s why you’ve got to go. I’ll get you some blankets for the couch.” Link was trying to stay firm, but the look on her face, the way she acted like such a princess, made it clear he’d end up giving in, sleeping on the couch while she took the bed. And he was right, by the end of the evening, she’d worn him down, insisting somehow on taking the bed “because my back is  _ so  _ sore from the flight” and Link was left on the couch, a few blankets piled on top of him. It had none of the magic of Christmas Eve, none of the kind of feelings of convincing your parents to let you stay up late to see Santa, but instead felt cold and lonely.

His step-sister had made fun of his lack of decor, had wondered aloud if he was as grinchy as he seemed to be. He tossed and turned on the couch, thinking about the conversation, about her saying how boring his apartment looked. He told her he hadn’t been there long enough to decorate, and it wasn’t entirely a lie. He still couldn’t sleep, so he got up, taking a small piece of paper off of his desk.

On it, he drew a small candy cane, writing beneath it.

 

**_Sorry I don’t have anything better than this to tape to your door, like a_ ** **real** **_candy cane. But thank you for the candy cane. It made me smile. Also, I’m sorry to do this, but I won’t be able to come to your Christmas dinner. My step-sister showed up and I have to spend Christmas with her. I’m sorry for the last-minute cancellation, but maybe we could go get coffee some_ **

 

He didn’t get a chance to take Rhett the note, or even finish writing it, as Dana appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, looking across the living room to the desk.

“Could you turn the light out?”

“Why not just close the door?” Link was annoyed. He was sleeping on the couch, changing his plans, everything because she had shown up, and now she was insisting he turn the light off, too?

“You know I can’t sleep with the door closed. Go to bed, Linkypoo.”

“Don’t call me that,” he insisted, but he turned off the light anyway, throwing the unfinished note in the trash.

* * *

 

Dinner was almost ready and Rhett was nervous. He hadn’t seen or heard from Link at all, and everyone was there. The turkey was resting before carving, the corn casserole was cooling so it wouldn’t burn everyone’s mouths, and the desserts were long ready, too. Everything was in place, the table set, and Rhett hoped it wasn’t  _ too much  _ to seat Link next to him, but it made the most sense in the way the table was laid out. But Link wasn’t there, and he felt the sting of rejection.

“He was late to the party, too. Maybe it’s a habit.” Stevie rested her hand on his arm, reminding him to calm down and take a deep breath. But when she looked at all of the food starting to move to the table, the cranberries and green beans, the potatoes and gravy, she understood why Rhett was nervous. “Maybe go over and remind him? He promised last night that he’d be here, but maybe the time slipped his mind.”

Rhett looked at the food and back at Stevie, unsure of what to do.

“Go, Rhett. I’ll get everything on the table.” Stevie encouraged him enough to be okay with slipping across the hall, letting her handle the last of the food he’d prepared for dinner. He approached Link’s door and saw the candy cane he’d taped to it the day before missing. Rhett smiled, hoping that his small token had made Link smile, at least. He felt his mouth go dry, nervous about knocking and asking if Link still planned to come. Stevie said he’d been certain about coming, and he wondered why she knew that, how she knew it, but he felt reassurance at her being so confident. Rhett lifted his hand and knocked.

“Yeah?” A woman Rhett had never seen before opened the door, standing there in nothing but short shorts and a low-cut tank top. His heart was racing. Was Link dating someone? Had something changed since Stevie spoke to him last night, since he’d spoken to Link the day before yesterday?

“Is,” Rhett swallowed, his mouth still dry and his voice unwilling to fully cooperate, “is Link here?”

Link stepped around the girl and into the hall, closing the door behind him. He’d left the woman in the apartment, and he and Rhett outside the door to talk, and Rhett wasn’t totally sure why.

“Did you uh… did you…” Rhett wanted to ask if Link had changed his mind about dinner, about coming over and eating. Instead, he looked at the ground.

“My step-sister showed up last night. I didn’t know she was coming. I didn’t even know she knew where I lived. I meant to come over and tell you, but she’s been picking at me all day.”

“Do you two have other Christmas plans?”

“No, we were just hanging around here,” Link sighed. More than anything, he wanted to be at Rhett’s table, eating dinner with his friends and getting to know Rhett better. Instead, he was in his empty, Christmas-less apartment with someone he didn’t even like.

“So come over, then?” It was a question, giving Link the out to say no. Of course, the last thing Rhett wanted was a rejection, but at least Link knew he had the option to turn him down.

“I can’t leave her here by herself. She’s not from here, and--”

“Oh!” Rhett cut him off. “By come over, I meant both of you. There’s more than enough food for everyone.”

“Are you sure?” Link looked back at the door, then back at Rhett, then back at the door.

“I’m sure. You guys shouldn’t have to spend Christmas alone.” Rhett was certain, but he also realized them spending it together meant not spending it alone. Still, he hoped Link would come over, and when Link agreed, he was overjoyed, pulling Link into a sudden, unexpected hug. Link hugged him back, though, the closest they’d gotten since the kiss they’d shared. Link let himself sink into it, and for a moment, neither of them made a move to pull themselves apart. But then Link remembered his step-sister inside, remembered if she opened the door, she’d see and she’d learn a lot about Link he wasn’t sure he was ready to share. And Rhett remembered that he’d left Stevie to manage getting dinner on the table.

“Okay, let me go make her get dressed quickly, and we’ll be there in about five minutes, okay?”

Twenty minutes later, and after a lot of questions about who the “freaking tall guy outside the door” was, Link managed to drag Dana to dinner. He apologized profusely, bottles of wine in hand, as Rhett told him it was fine, that they’d just started to carve the turkey and he certainly wasn’t late. Link could see the truth, see everyone salivating over the food and could hear the microwave running to re-heat what had gotten cold as they’d waited. But he felt thankful to have a place to spend Christmas, and Rhett was excited about the wine he’d brought.

Link’s seat was directly beside Rhett’s, and he was okay with that, happy to sit beside him, but he worried that his sister might (correctly, he might add) infer that he had feelings for Rhett. He tried to lean away, to keep his distance during the meal, even though Rhett wasn’t making a show of anything, wasn’t giving any indication they were anything. Link still felt electric sitting this close to Rhett, and more than once was tempted to slide his hand over toward Rhett under the table, take his hand and let him know he was still interested, despite how hard he was trying to pretend he wasn’t. Rhett seemed to be getting the message, though, letting his hand graze Link’s as they passed platters of food. Link let his hand linger on Rhett’s, too, as Rhett passed the salt. They were touchy-feely, but discreetly so.

As dinner ended, everyone lingered in the kitchen, helping to clean up and talking. As Dana talked to Stevie and Cassie, Link stayed close to Rhett, talking quietly. Link wanted to ask Rhett out, but he worried Dana might overhear, might tell his family, might somehow upset everyone. He couldn’t risk it, and Rhett wasn’t about to push. He could sense Link’s tension, could see the way Link kept looking over at Dana to make sure she wasn’t listening. He didn’t mind following Link’s lead, and he knew he had all the time in the world to ask when Dana left.  _ If  _ Dana left, that was. So Rhett took his time asking questions that were safe, like how long Dana might be staying with Link.

Even after dessert, Link stayed washing dishes, trying hard to keep himself there as long as possible, to absorb every second with Rhett he could. Rhett longed to cross the small distance between them, to wrap his arms around Link and stay like that for a long while. Instead, he kept his hands to himself. As they said their goodbyes, Link wished he could hug Rhett, could thank him properly. Instead, he simply uttered a quite thank you, returning to his apartment and closing the door. When he walked inside, he saw his present, the one Stevie had so carefully wrapped.

“So how long have you two been dating?” Dana leaned against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest.

“What? I’m not--”

“Linkypoo. Come on. You two couldn’t stop staring at each other, and you had to touch each other every time you passed anything.” Her tone made it clear she knew something Link was unwilling to admit.

“I’m… I…” he stammered, trying to find the right way to say something. “We’re not… does mom know?”

To that, Dana laughed at him.

“Do you think any of us  _ don’t  _ know? You’re not exactly subtle, Link. No one mopes that much over losing a friend. Come  _ on _ . So tell me, what’s the deal with you and Rhett?”

_ Everyone  _ knew? For a moment, Link couldn’t speak, couldn’t answer the question Dana posed. But she wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t look away until he answered.

“Nothing right now. We kissed, but that’s it. I… I don’t really know right now.”

“Have you asked him out?”

“No…” Link bit his lip, thinking about it.

“Then why the hell are you not over on the other side of that hallway asking him now?”

It was a good question, Link had to admit. He picked up the carefully wrapped box, walking across the hall to Rhett’s. He knocked on the door, and within seconds, Rhett answered.

“Link,” a slight gasp played on his breath, like he was surprised to see Link at his door.

“I forgot to give this to you earlier. It’s nothing major, I swear, but I thought of you when I saw it.” He handed the box to Rhett.

“Can you come in?” Rhett didn’t have to ask twice, and Link stepped into the now-empty apartment, just the two of them inside. “I have something for you, too.” Rhett handed him a small box, wrapped with the same signature care that Stevie had put into the gift he had for Rhett.

“Stevie wrapped this, didn’t she?”

“Yeah. She wrapped yours, too, right?” It was obvious she had, and they both laughed.

Rhett unwrapped his gift to find the mini candy canes Link had picked up at the liquor store the night before. He smiled, knowing it would last him a few weeks, and also knowing that he attached a strong meaning of flirtation to his mini candy canes each time he taped one to Link’s door. If Link realized this, then he was heaping on the flirtation by buying Rhett an entire boxful. The look on Link’s face said yes, he knew exactly what he was doing with the mini candy canes. Link unwrapped the gift from Rhett to reveal plain chocolate bark.

“I wasn’t sure if it was the mint that bothered you, or bark in general, but I thought maybe you’d like this plain one instead.” Link grinned from ear to ear, excited to try it. It looked like the kind of bark he might be a fan of.

“Hey Rhett? Can I ask you something?” After saying that, Link realized he’d asked Rhett something by asking if he could ask something, so he pressed on without letting Rhett respond. “Would you want to maybe get coffee sometime?”

Rhett smiled, reaching for Link’s hand and pulling him close until they were hugging.

“This is the cheesiest response ever, but I honestly thought you’d never ask,” Rhett said. Cheesy or not, it seemed to work, because Link lifted up on his toes to kiss Rhett. They certainly weren’t going the traditional route, date before kissing, but they’d already broken past that barrier, and for Link, this meant better memories associated with the kiss. This time, there was no drunken ex-boyfriend to stumble in and interrupt the kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe
> 
> Corn Casserole
> 
> 2 sticks butter (1 cup) butter, melted  
> 4 eggs, beaten  
> 16 oz sour cream  
> 2 cans whole kernel corn, drained.  
> 2 cans cream corn  
> 16 oz corn muffin mix
> 
> Pour melted butter into casserole dish.  
> Add eggs and sour cream, mixing thoroughly.  
> Add cans of corn and muffin mix, stirring to combine (batter will be lumpy).  
> Bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes at 350 degrees.  
> Recipe can be halved for a smaller amount; reduce baking time accordingly.


	11. Snowed In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow- Dean Martin  
> Snowed In- Mindy Smith*  
> I'd Like You for Christmas- Julie London  
> In Love on Christmas- N*Sync
> 
> *Seriously, though, if you only listen to one recommended song from this one, PLEASE make it Snowed In by Mindy Smith. It's perfect.
> 
> Recommended Watching  
> The Holiday  
> Love Actually

The snow was getting alarmingly high. Link wasn’t sure he’d ever seen it that high. Then again, it felt a little high when it was a few inches, but this was far beyond that. If Link had to guess, he’d say there weren’t inches, but  _ feet  _ of snow on the ground. There was no way they’d be able to go on their date, not with the way the snow was piling up. Link watched from the window, seeing someone struggle to even open the front door of the apartment building, trying to seek refuge from the cold winter air. In the three days since Christmas dinner, Link had been looking forward to the coffee date they’d planned, but now there was no way they’d be able to go out in the storm.

Dana had gone back home the day before, back to her boyfriend, who she’d managed to make up with over Skype. Link wasn’t sure if their relationship would last or not, but once Dana left, it was no longer his problem. But he had to admit, she’d been surprisingly helpful and kind while she was there, supporting him as he called his mom and talked things out with her. Dana was right, everyone  _ did  _ know he was gay. His mom was completely unsurprised and incredibly supportive, saying she was just waiting until he was ready to tell her. It was a lot for him to process, considering his fear of his family’s rejection was one of the big reasons he’d left LA. Link wasn’t about to look back now, though, not with the opportunities ahead of him, both in the grad school program he’d joined and with Rhett. His mother understood, mercifully, and he was happy that things finally seemed to be working out.

Until the damned snow hit, of course. The snow was the one thing that could potentially stand in the way of things getting better, because he knew it would prevent his date with Rhett. He certainly wasn’t a happy camper about it. As the snow got higher and higher and the minutes ticked closer and closer to their date night, he realized that the only thing he could do was cancel, see if Rhett was willing to reschedule. He opened the door, fully prepared to walk across the hall and talk to Rhett, see if there was any way they could move the date to another night, but instead he ran right into Rhett. Literally.

“Oh!” Link exclaimed. He’d nearly tackled Rhett, so focused on moving toward Rhett’s door that he had missed Rhett at his own.

“It’s snowy outside,” Rhett said. He was stating the obvious.

“It  _ is  _ snowy. I’m assuming too snowy.” Link was bummed about that, sad to see that Rhett must have had the same thought, that there was no way to have the date, if he was at Link’s door.

“Too snowy for Starbucks, maybe. Not too snowy for a date. Do you have pajamas?” Rhett’s eyebrows arched, like he was trying to imagine Link in pajamas. Link liked the thought of that, of Rhett trying to mentally figure out what he might wear to bed.

Link furrowed his brow.  _ Do I have pajamas?  _ He nearly always slept in boxers, but he was certain he had a pair of pajama pants or two tucked away in a box he hadn’t yet unpacked.

“I think so. Why?”

“I think you should put them on and come over. See you in ten minutes?” Before Link could answer, Rhett was back at his door, turning and giving a small wave before going inside. Link figured the only thing he could do was exactly what Rhett had asked, his stomach fluttering with anticipation. He pulled boxes out of his closet, opening them until he found a decent pair of plaid flannel pajama pants that looked decent enough. He tugged them on along with a soft, over-sized white tee shirt. He gave himself a once-over in the mirror.  _ Well, it’s as good as it’s going to get _ , Link shrugged at himself.

He walked across the hall, knocking on Rhett’s door. Within seconds, like he’d been waiting for Link just on the other side of the door, Rhett opened it eagerly. The entire apartment was dark, save for the twinkling glow of string after string of twinkling lights. They weren’t just on the Christmas tree, which was still up days after Christmas, but also stretched across the entire room. The floor was filled with soft blankets, pillows, the cushions from the couch, every spare piece of soft bedding Rhett could muster.

Sheets were thumbtacked into the walls, stretching across parts of the room, stapled together in places, to make a blanket fort. The room had a warm glow that made Link feel at home. He almost didn’t have words, instead staring and blinking at the marvelous sparkle of lights. As Rhett led him inside, all he could do was whisper, the soft lighting making him feel that this was a place deserving of reverence, rather than the same living room they’d shared several small moments together. In reality, Link thought back, it was where they’d shared everything that had happened between them, save for the kiss outside of Link’s apartment door the day before, when they’d encountered each other in the hallway and had trouble pulling themselves apart.

“Wow, Rhett. This is amazing,” Link said softly.

“I didn’t want us to miss our first real date because of the snow. This was the best I could do.” Rhett held onto Link’s hand as he settled them both onto the pillows in the middle of the floor.

“It’s better than coffee.” Link was impressed, the mood far better than that of a coffee shop. Here, it was soft and quiet, private so they could truly talk, get to know each other in a way they hadn’t yet had a chance to. Rhett passed Link a cup of hot cocoa, piled high with marshmallows and whipped cream.

“I didn’t know if you liked marshmallows or whipped cream on your cocoa so I put both on there.”

Link took a sip, enjoying the choice of both toppings. Whipped topping stuck to his top lip, and without a question, Rhett leaned forward to lick it off. Link’s fingers found themselves tangled in Rhett’s hair. He found Rhett irresistible, the taste of peppermint from the ever-present mini candy canes obvious in their kiss. Between kisses, they talked, sharing stories of their childhoods, their future plans, what they’d each do after they finished grad school. It never felt like small talk, but instead was the  _ big  _ talk, the kind that mattered in all the right ways. Even when they did slip into small talk, lips and hands still making as much contact as possible, it felt big, important, revealing how much they truly did have in common despite their different attitudes during the holiday season.

“What kind of music do you like?” Rhett asked, the two of them cuddling and looking up at the twinkling lights above them.

“A lot of stuff. Growing up I listened to a lot of rap. And I still listen to Merle Haggard a lot. I think I have every album he ever made.” Link truly did love Merle, and he recognized that it was an unusual choice, knowing not many people from his generation truly appreciated Merle’s music.

“I  _ love  _ him. No one our age ever appreciates him! You seriously have all of them?”

“Yeah, I do. Do you want to see?” Link started to sit up, to go after his trunk filled with Merle’s albums, but Rhett kept hold of Link, keeping him solidly in place.

“Show me tomorrow?” Rhett asked with a kiss, nibbling at Link’s lower lip. Link liked the implication, that he’d be too busy to show Rhett before the next day, staying cozy in the blanket fort instead. He was okay with that, with the idea of staying put. Rhett reached for his phone, instead turning on a playlist of his favorite songs. Link whisper-sang some of the words, his fingertips tracing along Rhett’s arm until both of them drifted off.

It took Link a few moments to figure out where he was the next morning as he looked at the twinkling lights above him. They were still on, in spite of the bright light spilling in through the window. Soft cushions sank down as he tried to lift himself up on an elbow to look around, but when he finally pulled himself up, he saw a cup of coffee sitting on the edge of a table with a candy cane beside it. A mostly-empty mug was next to it, indicating the full, steaming cup was for him. He could smell bacon. He stood up, grabbing his cup of coffee and walking into the kitchen to find Rhett in pajama pants and an apron, standing next to the stove.

“You’re seriously brave enough to cook bacon without a shirt on?”

“I have an apron,” Rhett said.

“But your arms.” Link bit his lip, worried about the bacon grease right as it splattered, sending flecks of the hot liquid onto Rhett’s forearms. He didn’t even flinch.

“I’m used to it. I really like bacon.”

Link couldn’t help but smile. Rhett turned, dredging pieces of bread into liquid, then into what looked like corn flakes. Link struggled to tear his eyes away from the reindeer-printed pajama pants Rhett was wearing.

“What’s that?” Link asked, forcing himself to look at Rhett’s face as he looked over his shoulder to check the bacon.

“Double-dipped french toast. It’s crispier than regular french toast.”

Link’s stomach growled. He hadn’t realized he was hungry until he smelled Rhett’s cooking. He wasn’t usually a breakfast kind of guy, more of a grab-a-bowl-of-cereal-at-all-hours kind of guy instead, but this was definitely something he could get used to.

Rhett worked quickly, cooking the bread in a skillet and loading two plates with several slices of french toast, sliced fruit, and splitting the entire package of bacon between them. He handed Link a plate and grabbed his own, bringing the bottle of syrup with him. Link followed behind as Rhett led him back to the blanket fort and climbed onto the ground.

“What should we start with-- Love Actually or The Holiday?”

“What?”

“Which movie do you want to watch first?” Rhett looked at him like the question should have been obvious.

“I… I don’t know. What are they about?” Link had never heard of either of them.

“You seriously don’t know what some of the most romantic Christmas movies of all time are about? I’m into a guy who has  _ never  _ seen Love Actually  _ or  _ The Holiday? Oh no, no no no, that will not stand. You’re watching both of them, then. Love Actually first.”

Rhett popped the DVD in and fiddled with the remote to set the movie to play.

“You’re into me, huh?” Link teased, as if it wasn’t obvious by the way they’d spent the night in a blanket fort, curled up next to each other.

“Nah,” Rhett couldn’t stifle a grin as he said it, pressing play and leaning over to give Link a soft, small kiss. Link let his hand snake around the back of Rhett’s head, deepening the kiss until Rhett whimpered and pulled back. “You’re gonna miss the beginning!”

Link just shook his head and turned his attention to the movie as he ate his bacon. He watched intently, trying to figure out what it was that Rhett liked so much about the movie. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t exactly his idea of holiday magic.

“So what’d you think?”

Link just shrugged.

“You didn’t like it?” Rhett was shocked. Surely there had to be  _ some  _ good storyline in the movie to make Link enjoy it.

“It was just a lot of stories all at once. I’m sure the Holiday will be better.” Link knew there was no trying to argue about watching the second movie, since Rhett already had the DVD case open. He’d watch it, and surely, he’d find something good to say about it. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up so attracted and so darn attached to someone who was so over-the-top about the holidays when he was fairly indifferent to them, but he found Rhett’s charm and genuine excitement endearing, and he had to admit that Rhett, when excited about Christmas, was incredibly cute. Then again, Link struggled to find a time he didn’t think Rhett was cute.

Their breakfast long finished, Link curled up against Rhett during the movie as Rhett draped his arm around Link’s shoulders. Link longed to kiss him, but anytime he found himself distracted, attempting to kiss Rhett, or looking at him, Rhett redirected him back to the movie on screen. Link didn’t mind, finding this one much easier to enjoy and to follow than the one before.

“This one was better. But it could have been even better if Jude Law had fallen in love with Jack Black.”

“Oh come  _ on,  _ just admit you liked it!” Rhett teased, pushing Link backward onto the cushions beneath them. “We even have a blanket fort! I mean, I don’t have two daughters but if you want me to put a napkin on my face, I can.”

Link pulled Rhett down toward him, kissing him.

“It was a cute movie. But it could have been gayer, that’s all I’m saying. All of these Christmas movies and not a single gay one.”

“There are plenty of gay ones. Just not many  _ good  _ gay ones,” Rhett laughed. “But yes, Jude Law and Jack Black would make a cute couple.” He rested his head on Link’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart as Link ran his fingers through Rhett’s hair.

“You and I would make a cute couple.” Link couldn’t stop himself before the words escaped from his mouth. His face turned bright red, and he was positive that if Rhett was listening to his heart, he’d hear it racing. Before he could open his mouth, change feet, say anything to make the moment less awkward, Rhett lifted his head and looked at Link.

“You’re right. We would.”

* * *

 

“Rhett, seriously, I have to go home,” Link sighed, still not moving, not making an effort to untangle from the blankets.

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t showered in three days. Or changed clothes.”

“You haven’t worn your clothes for three days,” Rhett rebutted. And it was true, Link hadn’t worn his clothes in a day or two at least.

“I still haven’t showered. That’s gross. How can you even stand to be near me?”

“What are you talking about? We showered yesterday!” Rhett laughed but Link just rolled his eyes in response.

“I meant an actual shower. With soap and shampoo and no  _ distractions _ .” Not that Link minded distractions. He enjoyed them quite thoroughly. But he really, really didn’t want to overstay his welcome and he definitely wanted to take a proper shower, wash his hair and do more than just swish some mouthwash.

“ _ Fine _ ,” Rhett sighed. He was being overdramatic on purpose, and he made it obvious. “Will you come back after?”

“I have to, don’t I? To help you set up for the New Year’s Eve party?” Link said “have to” like it was a chore, but he was excited, if he was being truly honest. Not just because he’d have someone to kiss on New Year’s, but because he was truly happy to be there with Rhett, because the year ahead seemed like a good one.

“Yes. And also, it’s probably best if we do tear down the blanket fort. My back probably can’t take another night of it. And besides, you haven’t felt how comfortable my bed is yet.” Rhett entwined his fingers with Link’s, still unwilling to let Link go. Link lifted Rhett’s hand to his lips, kissing it.

“I’ll be back in an hour. Maybe two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe
> 
> Double Dipped French Toast
> 
> 1 cup crushed corn flakes  
> 1/2 cup steel cut oatmeal  
> 1/2 cup sugar  
> 1 generous sprinkle cinnamon  
> 2 eggs, beaten  
> 1/2 cup milk  
> 4 slices toast (yes, toasted, not bread)  
> Butter
> 
> In bowl, combine eggs and milk.  
> In separate bowl, combine corn flakes, oats, sugar, and cinnamon.  
> Dip toast into egg mixture, then into corn flake mixture, coating generously.  
> In skillet with melted butter, cook toast until golden brown and crispy.  
> Cut into halves (to get to the middle faster and preserve your bite mark) or into triangles (to avoid getting any in your beard) and serve with syrup and fresh fruit.


	12. Kiss Me At Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve- Ella Fitzgerald  
> Kiss Me At Mightnight- N*Sync  
> Inevitable- Anberlin
> 
> Recommended Watching
> 
> The Nightmare Before Christmas  
> Die Hard

Link was trying to force himself to stay gone for the full two hours he’d told Rhett he’d be gone for, to give himself some space to think and to give Rhett a little bit of time alone. But his shower hadn’t even taken fifteen minutes, and that included a good shave. He sat down to check his email, but found his mind wandering back across the hall to Rhett. Pulling out his phone, he saw a text pop up on the screen.

 

**Rhett**

 

_ When are you coming back? ;) _

 

Link grinned and rolled his eyes. He knew Rhett was joking-- the winking emoji said as much-- but Link knew how much they both wanted him to be back over there.

 

_ You can’t possibly miss me already. I just left. How’d you get my number, anyway? _

 

Link figured Rhett had gotten his number the same way he’d gotten Rhett’s-- from Stevie. After all, he already had Rhett programmed into his contacts long before Rhett had messaged him. Not that he’d dared to text him until now, but that was hardly relevant.

 

_ I can’t? Why not? _

_ P.S. Next time bring your toothbrush so you don’t have to leave. _

 

_ If I’m there too much, you’ll get sick of me, I promise. _

 

_ Never. _

 

Link sighed and looked at the time on his phone. He’d only been in his own apartment for 45 minutes. Unable to resist, he gathered a change of clothes and his toothbrush, a DVD, and the unopened box of peppermint bark Rhett had given him the day they met. Even though his apartment was across the hall from Rhett’s, the thought of leaving to come back to brush his teeth or change his clothes  _ did  _ seem silly, and bringing them with him worked just as well.

He knocked, and Rhett yanked the door open.

“Gosh, I thought you were a delivery person or something. What’re you knocking for?” Rhett tugged Link inside by the shirt, kissing him before he could even get the door closed.

“Knocking is considered polite. It seemed rude to let myself in,” Link said, realizing that Rhett was probably right. Once he brought his toothbrush over, a change of clothes, started making his mark on Rhett’s apartment with his things, he was probably safe to come in without knocking.

“Next time just come in, bo. Mi casa es… whatever. Just come in. What’s that?” Rhett gestured to the stuff tucked under Link’s arm.

“You said to bring a toothbrush, so I figured you’d be okay with me bringing my change of clothes for the party over, too.”

“No, I meant that,” Rhett pointed at the DVD case sandwiched between the clean clothes Link brought and his arm. Link held it up, a broken case barely staying closed.

“My favorite Christmas movie.”

“That’s a Halloween movie,” Rhett responded.

“It clearly says Christmas in the title. Besides, I watched yours,” Link said.

“I’ve seen yours, though. I watch it every year… on Halloween. Where it belongs.” Rhett took the DVD anyway, setting it on the DVD player for later.

“If you don’t like that one, I can go get my second-favorite Christmas movie.”

“What’s that?” Rhett was genuinely curious to hear this answer.

“Die Hard.” Link bit his lip, trying to stifle a laugh. It really was his second-favorite, but the look of surprise and confusion on Rhett’s face was impossible not to react to.

“You can’t be serious. I thought your problem with Christmas movies was that they weren’t gay enough, and you pick a hardcore action film?”

“Sweaty Bruce Willis in a tank top,” Link said flatly.

“Okay, good point.”

Link took his toothbrush to the bathroom, leaving his clothes on Rhett’s bed for now, knowing they’d need to get started decorating for the New Year’s Eve party anyway, and being unsure where else to put them.

“Here,” Link tossed the peppermint bark to Rhett.

“Is this…?” Rhett turned the box over, running his finger along one crumpled corner of the box. It was the same corner that had crumpled when he’d dropped it in his mad rush to get the box to Link before he left the parking lot.

“It is,” Link responded.

“You said it was for a friend,” Rhett reminded Link, having known that Link was lying about it all along.

“Then I guess I’ll share it with my friend,” Link winked at Rhett, pulling him in for a kiss. Rhett placed the peppermint bark on the counter.

“I’m your friend, huh?” Rhett wouldn’t exactly use  _ friendship _ as the word to describe how they’d spent the last few days, tangled up with each other and with blankets, and he knew what Link was getting at, but he couldn’t resist pushing Link’s buttons anyway. Link’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Are you saying we aren’t friends?” Link waggled his eyebrows. He knew damn well they were far more than that by now, and Rhett tackled him to the ground as gently as possible in response. He had him pinned, and Link fought to flip them, to gain the upper hand. Rhett wasn’t allowing it, and their wrestling match became peppered with kisses. Link played with the hem of Rhett’s shirt before tugging it off over his head, throwing it to the side. Rhett shifted backwards just enough to allow Link space to remove his own shirt. He took Link’s wrists in his hands, holding his arms to the floor as he leaned down to kiss him, grazing his teeth along Link’s lower lip.

“Mmm, we can be whatever you want us to be,” Rhett finally responded. It didn’t matter, as long as they got to keep doing  _ this _ . Rhett sat up again, shifting his weight onto Link’s thighs as he unbuttoned Link’s skinny jeans, scooting back to tug them down around Link’s knees. As he lifted himself off of Link just enough for Link to kick his jeans down the rest of the way, Rhett let his kisses trail down Link’s body. Neither of them heard the front door to the apartment open.

“Oh my God!” Stevie exclaimed, nearly dropping the champagne bottle as she squeezed her eyes shut and turned around. “Get a room, Jesus Christ…”

“We  _ had  _ a room. You just chose to enter it,” Rhett said, rolling his eyes. Link scrambled back, tugging his jeans on, his cheeks bright red.

“H-hi, Stevie,” Link mumbled, standing up and putting his shirt on as she placed the champagne bottle on the counter and tried to regain her bearings. She’d seen far more of Link than she ever needed to see, probably far more than she’d ever  _ want  _ to see. Rhett must have given her the same no-knocking rule he’d given Link.

“Do you, uh, do you two little love birds need me to come back later? Because when you said we were going to set up for the party at three o’clock, I was pretty sure that you meant we should start setting up at, uh, three o’clock.”

Rhett had completely lost track of the time, not realizing that it was already three. Over the past few days, time was kind of a blur to him, their hours marked by time spent together and whatever meal they decided to have at the time instead of actual clocks and calendars.

“No, it’s cool, we can… we can set up now. Is that okay with you, Link?”

Link shrugged and agreed, that they could set up then. He was already too embarrassed to continue what they’d started even if Stevie left.

“I’m going to start knocking from now on,” Stevie said. It was good to see Rhett so happy, so at ease, but she didn’t need to see him  _ that  _ at ease ever again.

* * *

 

“Is Mike coming?” The last thing Rhett wanted or needed was any surprises, and if Mike  _ was  _ coming, he wanted to be sure he had time to talk to Link, to let him know that in his mind, Mike was a part of his past, something he wasn’t planning to revisit,  _ ever _ .

“No, uh, I heard he was at his girlfriend’s parents’ place up north for the weekend,” Stevie said. She didn’t miss the audible sigh of relief. “What’s the deal with you and Link now? Things better since, uh, since Christmas?” Link was trying, and mostly succeeding, at sticking cake pop sticks into the cake pops Rhett had so carefully rolled earlier.

“Things are positively terrible,” Rhett snarked, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Couldn’t you tell when you came in earlier?” Rhett elbowed Stevie, then turned to remove another ornament from the tree and carefully pack it away.

“Yeah, they look pretty terrible. But seriously, what’s the deal with you two?” The fact that Link could barely stop looking over at Rhett, and the fact that Rhett kept making a point to catch his gaze in return, made it obvious they had trouble getting enough of each other. After she’d interrupted them, Link had slipped into the other room to change into something nicer, more festive for the party that night, and Rhett had followed to “see if he needs help.” Stevie wasn’t stupid.

“We’re figuring it out as we go along, I think,” Rhett said as he continued to steal glances at Link.

“When’s the last time he went back to his own apartment?”

“Earlier today. God, Stevie, it’s not like he’s living here.” Rhett rolled his eyes.  _ Would it be so bad if he was?  _ The thought crossed his mind, and Rhett had to remind himself that they hadn’t known each other for that long. Still, he felt like when you knew, you just  _ knew _ , and with Link, he felt like he knew.

“Uh huh. How long was he gone?”

Rhett turned his back to her, taking down more ornaments and carefully wrapping each one in paper.

“Rhett? How long was he gone?”

“45 minutes,” Rhett refused to look at her.

“Jesus, Rhett. 45 minutes? After what, three  _ days _ ?” Stevie knew she was a hypocrite. With Cass, she’d gone on two dates before giving her a key. Sometimes things just  _ happened _ . She just didn’t want to see Rhett getting hurt, not after the way things had blown up with Mike the year before.

“I think I love him.” Rhett said the words with such ease, so seriously, that Stevie knew he really meant them, felt them to his core. But she didn’t know Link well enough, not yet, and even though she really liked him, she worried. She gave Rhett a small hug, though, a show of support.

“I’m happy for you. Promise.”

* * *

 

Link leaned his head against Rhett’s shoulder. He was having trouble staying awake until midnight, and he knew it had something to do with the fact that his sleep schedule was thoroughly screwed. He’d need to get it back into shape before classes started the following week, but for now, he was content to observe the party from the couch. Rhett didn’t seem to mind, either.

Link thought over the conversation he’d had with Stevie earlier, the two of them putting up streamers as Rhett took a shower. She’d told him that she was happy to see him happy, and she’d been mercifully reassuring that Mike wouldn’t be crashing the party the way he’d ruined their moment just a couple of short weeks earlier. Link couldn’t believe it had been that long, and also like no time at all.

During their conversation, it had felt a lot like Stevie was trying to feel Link out, to find out where he was with things and what his intentions were with Rhett. Rhett had presented her as a younger sister figure, but Link could tell Stevie very much saw the dynamic as reversed. She may have been younger, but her goal in life seemed to be to look out for Rhett and make sure he didn’t get hurt.

Link assured her that he really liked Rhett, and he let her in on the insecurity he felt about how and when to move the relationship forward. What if Rhett wasn’t as into him as he was Rhett? What if Rhett saw him as a friend and he was thinking they were more? What if they were just friends with benefits? He practically grilled Stevie about it. He hadn’t spent much time dating, didn’t really think relationships were his strong suit.

“I think you should probably talk to him about this, Link. I can’t speak for him. But the fact that he told you to bring your toothbrush back with you is a pretty good sign he sees you as more of a friend,” she’d assured him before any other guests arrived.

“He told you about that?” Link had been surprised, a little embarrassed, that Stevie knew how quickly things were progressing until he remembered she’d walked in on a very close call earlier.

“He accidentally responded to my message asking when to come over instead of your message, I think. I wondered why he was insisting I bring my toothbrush to decorate for a New Year’s party until he told me he sent it to the wrong number. It’s not hard to figure out who’s toothbrush he’d want here.”

As Link watched Stevie pour glasses of champagne, preparing for the toast that was minutes away, he was grateful for the reassurance she’d given him earlier. He didn’t know what the next year held for him, or for his relationship with Rhett, but he knew that there was no one he’d rather ring in the New Year with. As he stood to get two glasses of champagne, one for each of them, Rhett followed with his hand on Link’s waist. Everyone gathered around, glasses in hand, as they counted down the dying seconds of the year with wild optimism as they looked into the future.

10

9

8

Link considered where he’d be this time next year. Something in him said that he’d be celebrating with the same people.

7

6

5

The past year had been a wild ride. Heartbreak, a cross-country move, grad school acceptance, new friends, and meeting the man that might just be the love of his life… it was a lot to process.

4

3

2

Rhett’s hand grazed Link’s cheek, cupping his chin to lift it just enough for a kiss.

1

As Link kissed Rhett for what had to be the millionth time since they’d first kissed weeks before, in the same room, surrounded by most of the same people, as he started the new year, he was certain of one thing. He didn’t know it at the time, didn’t know it when he’d made his move under the mistletoe, but he knew it now.

That had been his last first kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Recipe
> 
> Times Square Cookie Pops
> 
> 1 package vanilla Oreos, crushed  
> 1 package cream cheese, softened (8 oz)  
> 1/4 cup melted white chocolate chips  
> Cake Pop Sticks  
> Vanilla frosting, melted  
> Silver, gold, or white sprinkles
> 
> Mix crushed cookies with softened cream cheese.  
> Roll mixture into balls.  
> Freeze balls. Dip cake pop sticks into melted white chocolate and insert into frozen cookie pops.  
> Return to freezer.  
> Melt frosting and dip frozen cake pops in melted frosting, tapping off excess, then roll in sprinkles.  
> Chill and serve.


	13. Epilogue: Next Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening
> 
> Who Would Have Thought- Brian McKnight  
> Closer- Barbra Streisand

One year.

Three hundred and sixty-five days.

Link couldn’t believe it had been that long since he’d met Rhett in the middle of a Trader Joe’s over some peppermint bark, but he was endlessly glad that he did. The past year together had been a lot for him. Late night study sessions, soft cuddles and kisses, and more than a few impromptu blanket forts had been highlights of his year.

If the last year had been any indication at all, he was right. Rhett was the man that he wanted to spend his life with. They carefully rolled out cookie dough, and Link was excited about the upcoming Christmas party. Somehow as Christmas approached, Link found himself looking forward to the little bits of holiday traditions he wanted to create with Rhett. The thought of trying to help with the Christmas baking that he’d interrupted last year, reluctant to come in for pie, made him happy. He even looked forward to watching The Holiday with Rhett, provided they could swap out Love Actually for Die Hard.

But there was one thing he still needed to do before the night ended, so as Rhett placed the cookies into the oven and began mixing the frosting, Link bundled up.

“I’ll be back, babe. I forgot something at the store earlier,” he said, kissing his cheek.

“Need me to come with you?”

The last thing Link wanted was for Rhett to come with him, especially when he was lying through his teeth. If Rhett came with him, he’d know that Link had no intention of going to the store. He’d know that Link wasn’t being honest, and it would ruin  _ everything _ .

 

**Stevie**

 

_ You still game to cover for me? _

 

_ Shoot, was that tonight?! I totally forgot. _

 

_ Seriously??? _

 

_ No, I’m just messing with you. Already on my way up. Your stuff is in the laundry room. _

 

Link was lucky to have Stevie on his side. As he got downstairs, he found the bag she’d hung on a hook in the shared basement washeteria. Everything he needed was inside. She’d been so good to hold onto it so Rhett wouldn’t see it, wouldn’t know his secret. He slung the bag over his shoulder and walked into the frigid air, pacing around the side of the building to the back. He counted each window, then reached his hands into the snow, packing it together to form a ball.

* * *

 

Stevie knocked on Rhett’s door. She knew she didn’t need to, knew that Link was outside in the snow. But Rhett didn’t know she knew that Link wasn’t there, so she knocked and Rhett answered.

“Where’s Link?” Stevie asked, feigning innocence.

“Had to run to the store,” Rhett said. His apron was covered in flour, a light dusting of it in his beard and on his cheek.

“Need help?”

She distracted him, helping him fill each of his cookies with bacon. As she reached for the last set of cookies, Rhett placed his hand down over them.

“Not that one,” he insisted. “I need that one for something else.”

Stevie furrowed her brow, then used whatever small talk she had left to keep Rhett talking, to keep him away from the window, until she felt a faint buzz from her phone. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at it.

**Link**

_ Done. Thanks again. _

“Oh, dang, Cass needs me. Dinner emergency. Later, Rhett.” Stevie stood up and hastened out the door.

Rhett stared down at the last cookie, took a deep breath, and started to assemble it and fill it. He hoped he had enough time to finish decorating it before Link got back from the store. After all, of all of the cookies they’d made, this was the most important one to get  _ perfect _ .

* * *

 

“I made this for you while you were gone,” Rhett handed Link the cookie. Link was nervous, hands tucked in his pockets.

“Thanks. It looks wonderful. I’ll eat it later, okay?” Link shifted. It wasn’t the answer Rhett was hoping for, and his face fell. He wanted,  _ needed  _ Link to take it now. His entire plan relied on it, but Link wasn’t about to budge.

“Rhett, can we talk?”

“Can you eat the cookie first?” Rhett pushed.

“This is serious,” Link said. His tone of voice made Rhett wonder if maybe he hadn’t misread everything, if maybe the cookie was the absolute opposite of what he should have made for Link. His heart sank, and he felt panicked.

“Okay,” Rhett took a deep breath. He placed the cookie behind him. If this went horribly wrong, if Link was breaking up with him or something, he needed to make sure Link forgot the cookie ever existed.

Link took Rhett’s hands, walking backward to the window and bringing Rhett along with him as he spoke.

“We’ve had a really good year together, haven’t we?”

Rhett felt the tears well in his eyes as he nodded. This was it. This was Link getting ready to say it was all over, he was sure of it.

“I can’t imagine anyone I would have rather spent the last year with, Rhett. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend every year with.”

“What?”  _ What?  _ Rhett’s voice and mind were ringing with concern. Was he hearing Link properly?

“I want to show you something,” Link said, opening the curtains. Rhett looked out the window, down to the snow. There stood a lopsided snowman, a sign hanging from it’s neck.

“Are you serious right now, Link?” Rhett’s voice quivered as he turned back to see Link on one knee, an open ring box in hand. Inside the box was a wood-and-gold ring that suited Rhett’s personality and interests perfectly.

“I’m serious, Rhett. There’s no one I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.”

“Oh my God, Link. You couldn’t have just eaten the cookie?” Rhett walked away without answering, rushing to the kitchen to grab the cookie he’d made just for Link. Link was puzzled, standing up.

“Really? You’re more worried about a cookie right now?” Link was annoyed. He’d put all of that effort into building a snowman, had dreamed up the perfect proposal, the best way to tell Rhett that he loved him and wanted to spend forever with him, and Rhett was more concerned with a silly bacon cookie.

“Just… just open the cookie, Link. You don’t even have to eat it, just open it.”

The top was frosted with Link’s name, small hearts around the edges. Link sighed, twisting off the top layer of the cookie. Inside of it was a thin silver ring.

“Oh… oh my God.”

“Link, will you marry me?”

Had anyone been outside with the snowman Link made, they would have been able to look up and see Link’s nod, his lips forming the word “Yes,” before kissing Rhett deeply. No one was there to see it but the snowman, the sign hanging from his neck blowing in the winter breeze.

**Rhett, will you marry me?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for joining me on this Christmas journey! Have a Happy Holiday season, everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks endlessly to clemwasjustagirl/shewasjustagirl, who never stops enabling me and tolerates chapter after chapter of my work, and all of the "justs," "stills," and "sides" that go with it. I wouldn't put up with me, but for some reason, she does.


End file.
